


Wishin' and Hopin'

by darlingholocene



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Smitten Victor Nikiforov, Victor is basically Jennifer Lopez, does that mean Yuuri is Matthew McConaughey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10746996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingholocene/pseuds/darlingholocene
Summary: "I know as well as you do that you’re a big romantic at heart, or you wouldn’t be the most requested wedding planner in New York City. Maybe it’s time you give the City a chance”.--Or, the one where Victor organizes weddings for a living but has never been in love, Katsuki Yuuri is a very stressed best man of honor, Chris wants Victor to pull a Jennifer Lopez and Yurio would very much like to be excluded from this narrative.





	1. you would cry too if it happened to you

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I have decided to attempt writing my first Victuuri fan fiction - and what better way to start than a Wedding Planner AU? (Yes, I watched The Wedding Planner two days ago. Yes, I went overboard with the Jennifer Lopez references. I'm sorry).
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know if you like it! ♥

Lace. There’s way too much lace. And not nearly enough tulle. They need _way_ more tulle. The bride is standing still on the pedestal, visibly nervous while she awaits for his opinion. Victor hates everything about the dress, a relic from the eighties that had belonged to the bride’s mother, but he makes sure his expression is absolutely neutral. He turns towards Georgi, his head stylist, and whispers a series of quick instructions to him, trying to salvage the situation, because there’s no way in the world that one of _his_ brides will be seen outside looking like that. Georgi nods, immediately starting to take measurements for the adjustments and giving orders to his team, whose members start nodding and fretting around the bride like a swarm of bees. If he closes his eyes, Victor can swear that they also make a somewhat buzzing sound. Avoided a disaster, he goes on with his daily inspection breathing a sigh of relief, and Mila, his assistant, follows him like a shadow.

“You have an interview for Vogue Italia today at five, and at four you have a meeting with a new couple. The wedding is in nine months. Lilia needs to talk to you about some changes to the bridal collection for the show in Paris, she says she’s not sure about some of your instructions. Oh, and Yura should be here any minute with your coffee”. Victor likes Mila – he would never have hired her if he didn’t, considering how much time they have to spend together. Mila is smart, quick-thinking, she never complains and even though she is young she has been working for him for almost two years now, and Victor has known her long enough to remember what she looked like as a natural blonde, a fake brunette and now a fake redhead. 

“You sent Yura?” he asks while Sara, who is in charge of a wedding to be celebrated next week in London, approaches him to have his opinion about the flowers to decorate the church with. Victor glances at the alternative without ceasing his fast walking,  and frowns when he sees the bright pink camelias. It’s enough for Sara to immediately tell her intern to book the magnolias instead.

“Yeah, well… I gave him very detailed instructions. He can’t get it wrong this time,” Mila replies, and Victor can see from her knitted eyebrows that there’s a really good chance that Yuri will come back with the wrong order again. The last time Mila had sent the teenager to get him coffee, Yuri had returned with a monster of a Frappuccino that had Victor paling at the mere sight.  It’s not that Yuri doesn’t understand what a black coffee is. The boy is smart – too smart for his age, actually. Getting Victor the wrong drink is one of his silent protests against working at the Atelier Interlude, something which he was forced to do by his stepmother after sneaking out one too many times. Refusing to hire Yuri as a part-time intern had been impossible for Victor, considering that the boy’s step-parent also happened to be his own mother. Yuri has been working at the Atelier for three weeks now, and Victor still hasn’t found one task that won’t give the teenager a minor nervous breakdown. The fact that Yuri finds everything that has to do with weddings and romances absolutely revolting certainly hasn’t helped.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Christophe called ten minutes ago, and he wanted to know if you’re still on for tonight. He wanted me to tell you that you’re not Anna Wintour and to get down from your pedal and put him out of his misery”.

Victor smiles, finding Chris’ dramatic style amusing as always, and take his phone out the pocket of his dark navy suit to type an answer.

_[15.42] Victor_

_I hereby declare the end of your misery and my descent from the pedestal.  
See you at 8. It’s on me ;)_

As soon as his phone is back in his pocket, Mila goes on with some more updates: rescheduled meetings, phone calls, problems to solve. Victor answers promptly and keeps walking fast until he finally reaches his office, bright thanks to the huge windows, the decor simple but sophisticated and with a view on Central Park that puts the Plaza to shame. The clacking noise of Mila’s heels follows him inside, marking the time better then any clock.

His desk is taken. On the ridiculously expensive black chair, one that Victor isn’t ashamed to admit was custom made to ensure the maximum comfort, is sitting a teenager who immediately glares at him with penetrating green eyes. Yuri somehow manages to be intimidating despite being a scanty and incredibly graceful sixteen-year-old, with delicate features that he attempts to hide with his blond hair. When he’s at work, Yuri dresses entirely in black – another silent protest against his current predicament – and if he was anyone else and not his step-brother, any of his fashion choices, from the black studded sweater o the ripped jeans, would have had him fired on the spot. Victor rolls his eyes before suspiciously setting his gaze on the hot beverage placed at the center of the desk.

“It’s coffee,” Yuri informs him with an offended expression on his face, as if he hadn’t brought him a heart-attack-in-a-cup just a few days before.

Victor puts a hand on his heart, pretending to be touched. “Yura, you’re going to make me cry. Actual coffee? And it’s only your fourth attempt,” he says, dramatically. Yuri gives him an angry look and gets up from the chair with a graceful movement full of idleness and annoyance.

“Maybe Yura could do something different today?” Mila suggests, smiling at Victor indulgently and holding her folder close to her chest.

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” says Yuri. “And don’t talk about me as if I’m five years old,” he adds. Mila just smiles wider, raising an arm to pat him on the head making him furious, his protests sounding like those of a wet kitten. Victor supposes his assistant isn’t wrong. Maybe he should have his reluctant intern do something different to try and make him less reluctant.

“I have an appointment with a couple in ten minutes. How about you stay here and take notes for me?” he suggests, finally sitting behind his desk. Yuri gives him a murderous look, but he doesn’t outwardly complain –basically an enthusiastic reaction for him. Victor nods his head to Mila, who quickly fetches a clean data sheet from their archive and hands it to Yuri, also giving him instruction on how to fill it out during the appointment. Victor sips his coffee, surprisingly black as he had requested, while he answers some of the most urgent emails he had received in the past hour. His personal phone vibrates in his pocket, and he fishes it out while he finishes his coffee.

  _[15.57] Chris_

_À tout à l’heure, cheri._

Victor puts his phone down with a small smile and then he starts reading some more emails while he waits. “You’re making that face again”. Victor lifts his eyes up and meets Yuri’s intense gaze from where he’s sitting slouchy on the other side of the desk.

“What face?” he asks, automatically shifting into a polite smile. Yuri answers with a noise that’s halfway through exasperated and disgusted.

“Now it’s even worse,” he comments, shaking his head. Before he can elaborate, Mila opens the door to his office and announces the future Mr. and Mrs. Leroy. Yuri gets up and sits down in the armchair behind Victor, while Mila escorts the couple inside and invites them to sit down. Victor welcomes them with a bright, charming smile and exchanges pleasantries he has by now learned by heart. Once the introductions are over, Victor starts asking them the usual questions. Mila has asked him a thousand times why he doesn’t delegate the first meeting with the couplet to one of his assistants, why he doesn’t focus only on the most important, final touches, but Victor is a perfectionist, and he knows that what makes his wedding specials is found in the details – details which he gathers during his long interviews with the couples, where he learns about their relationship and about their dream wedding. He wants to know everything, including the most unattainable wish they have for their big day. Victor knows how to take the unattainable and turn into something unexpectedly real. 

Jean Jacques and Isabella’s love story is nice. It’s sweet, if not a little cliché. The two met at a karaoke party thrown for the birthday of a mutual friend of theirs (“she will be my maid of honor!”), and after a horrible duet on the notes of _Endless Love_ (“it’s gonna be our first dance!”), they felt a spark. Two years later, Jean Jacques asked Isabella to marry him in the same karaoke bar, recreating the night they met. Victor asks them some more questions, nods, takes some notes of his own hoping that Yuri is at least trying to fill in the sheet he’s been given. Half an hour later, Victor gets up and dismisses them with his best smile and the promise that “we will make your big day special and unforgettable”, before handing them over to Mila so that she can schedule their next appointment and have Isabella meet with Lilia for her wedding dress. As soon as the door closes behind them, Victor relaxes on his chair and stretches his legs in front of him.

“Why do you even _do_ this if you hate it?”. Victor had almost forgotten that Yuri was still sitting behind him. The teenager hadn’t bothered using English this time, switching automatically into Russian. Without turning around, Victor starts tidying up his desk – already perfectly tidy in an OCD kind of way – and answers with aggressive politeness.

“I love my job. What makes you think I don’t? Only because ‘I hate it’ is your default mode it doesn’t mean I – “

“Mila thinks so, too”.

“ – it  doesn’t mean it’s mine as well. You’re just projecting, Yura”.

“And Sara. And Georgi and Michele as well”.

Victor feels heat rushing to his head, together with the unpleasant feeling of just having been stabbed in the back.

“And when have you had such deep conversations with them, may I ask?” he says, without losing his cool.

“On the group chat,” Yuri replies, without missing a beat.

With a fluid movement, Victor does a one-eighty on his chair and stares at his step-brother with a frown.

“I’m in the group chat. I’m pretty sure I would know if you had been talking about me,” he observes, crossing his arms on his chest.

“There’s another one,” Yuri informs him, without even lifting his eyes from his phone. Victor’s mouth falls open with indignation.

“You’re telling me there’s a secret group chat that I  haven’t been invited to?” he asks, in disbelief.

“You’re so dumb sometimes,” Yuri comments, with resignation. “Do you really think your employees want you to know when they are going on an extra coffee-break? Or when they come into work with a hangover on Monday? Of course there’s a group chat without their _boss_ , Victor”.

It _is_ obvious, Yuri is right, and yet Victor can’t help but feel offended. He clears his voice before replying, well aware that teenagers are exceptionally good at pinpointing your weaknesses and use them against you. “And in this _chat_ … in this chat you _badmouth_ me?”

Yuri finally puts his phone down so that he can roll his eyes, before shooting him a look charged with disapproval and pity. Yuri, a teenager who thinks puberty is the universe conspiring against him, takes _pity_ on him, Victor, a handsome, charismatic, successful man. As if he needed any other proof that his life is going downhill.

“Sometimes”.

“When?”

“When you went on Say Yes to the Dress and you used the word ‘axiomatic’. Haven’t you notice how everyone in the Atelier was suddenly saying it?”

Victor’s frown grows deeper. “I thought it was because you liked it”.

“When you declared roses out of fashion, and when you sat down next to Kim Kardashian at NY Fashion Week and you gave her that disgusted look. We turned that into a meme. Oh, and when you ordered that ridiculous roman bust for your office”. Victor is about to interrupt him, absolutely outraged, but Yuri shuts him up. “Listen. That’s not the point, okay? The point is that your employees _like_ you, for some reason. They make fun of you because you are so stupidly extra, but they like you, or whatever. And they are worried about you”. He says these last words almost as if it pained him to.

“Worried? About me? And why would they be?” Victor asks with a frivolous, sharp smile. Yuri makes a sound like a dying animal and stands up, rushing out of the office and covering his face with his hands.

“Figure it out! I’m sixteen, and you’re seventy-five!” he shouts before slamming the door behind him with a litany of ‘I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place’.

Victor isn’t sure how long he stays still, sitting lifelessly on his chair, his mouth slightly open, his eyes unfocused and his eyebrows raised, before Mila opens the door and informs him that the Italian Vogue team have arrived. When, after a make-up session and a round of introductions, the elegant interviewer asks him  whether he likes having his own bridal empire, Victor graces her with his brightest smile.

“I love my job”.

\---

_[17.41] Mila BABAcheva_

_Did you do smth?? Victor had a weird face.  
Did you poison his coffee?_

_[17.45] Yuri_

_So Victor has a weird face and you immediately think I’ve done something?_  
_Nice to know that’s what you think of me_  
 _And his face is always weird_

_[17.47] Mila BABAcheva_

_Awww sorry Yura! Don’t be mad, I was just checking_ ♡

_[17.48] Yuri_

_I told him about the secret chat_

_[17.48] Mila BABAcheva_

_!?!?!?!?  
are you insane????_

_[17.49] Yuri_

_I just wanted him to_  
I DONT KNOW OKAY????  
leave me alone

_\---_

Chris waving at him from the other side of the room is a welcomed sight. Victor makes his way to him ignoring the looks he gets from a group of girls who have clearly recognized him and sits at the counter of their favourite bar, a classy, niche place where he and Chris have shared their ups and downs and a good amount of drinking as well. Chris is about the same age as Victor – both of them turning twenty-eight this year – and he was Victor’s first friend in New York. They met on the set of the photo shoot for Victor’s first collection since he had left his old job and created Atelier Interlude. Victor had been unusually nervous, terrified at the idea of the fashion critics hating his first independent designs, and his perfectionism on set had piqued, leading him to criticize each model, each pose, each mise-en-place. It had been Chris, the young photographer, who had calmed him down with his French charm and a couple of glasses of champagne. They had been inseparable ever since.

“If you weren’t you, I’d say you look horrible,” Chris says as soon as Victor sits down, handing him a glass full of pink liquid. Victor shoots him a look. Chris is an attractive man: golden curls with a darker undercut, green, malicious eyes, full lips and a good-looking face. He dresses well, making sure to accentuate his nice body.

“Apparently my whole staff is in a secret group chat I haven’t been invited to,” Victor grunts, crossing his arms in front of him on the counter and placing his chin on them. Chris laughs.

“You didn’t know about that chat?” he asks, and his faint French accent makes the question even more annoying.

“No, I didn’t know,” Victor replies, sharply. “I had to find out from my sixteen-year-old step-brother because apparently my best friend didn’t think it was something I would have wanted to _know”._

Chris laughs again, unbothered, without even trying to restrain himself. “You’re telling me that’s actually bothering you? Victor, nobody wants to complain about how much they work in the same chat where their – “

“ – where their boss is. Yuri told me about that too,” Victor cuts him off, frowning.

“Yuri is a smart kid,” Chris comments. “And with a face like that, he could easily be a model if he wanted to,” he adds before piercing an olive with a toothpick and eating it.

“He would poison my coffee if I as much as attempted to suggest that”. Victor tries to picture the scene and he doesn’t see any other plausible ending to it. After a few moments of comfortable silence, both of them sipping their drinks, Victor finally decides to say more. “It’s not the chat”. Chris arches an eyebrow. “Okay, it’s also the chat, because apparently my staff use it to talk about me and about how they are _worried_ about me. What are they going to do, Chris, throw me an intervention at the office? It’s ridiculous. Unacceptable. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, because it’s just… it’s just ridiculous”. To prove his point, Victor forces out a laugh and looks at Chris for him to join him, but his friend is unusually quiet.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” he says, irritated. “Have they been talking to you?”

“No, but they didn’t have to,” is the reply. Chris is serious, and Chris is _never_ serious, so it unsettles Victor more than any word would.

“No. I’m not having any of this. I’m _fine_ , Chris. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me. Victor, I’ve known you for what – five years now? I’m your best friend. I know you better than anyone, and I can tell when something’s wrong”. Chris places a hand on his shoulders, and Victor has to fight the urge to run out of the bar screaming and never come back.

“I’m fine,” he says again, but it comes out weaker this time.

“But you aren’t. I’ve been worried too, Victor. You haven’t been yourself lately”. Victor doesn’t know what to say, or what to do. He has felt himself grow numb and detached in the past few months, but he made a point to avoid paying attention to it, throwing himself in his work and refusing to register that even that wasn’t giving him the usual fulfillment. He just sits in silence and stares at the counter. Christophe squeezes his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it as an accusation,” he says gently. “I just want to see you happy”.

“I just…” Victor tries, but has to stop for a moment. He hasn’t allowed himself to come to terms with the sense of emptiness that has been eating at him recently, apart from that one time he drank a bit too much at the office party and cry himself to sleep on his bathroom floor. Even then, he had ascribed it to the alcohol. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he confesses in a whisper. Chris doesn’t say anything, giving him some time to get his feelings out. “I used to love planning weddings and designing the dresses, but now… It just feels meaningless. And time just flies without me being able to catch up, you know? I just feel like I’m chasing something that doesn’t exist, and I… I’m just _sad_ , Chris”.

It feels truer, now that it’s finally out there, now that he’s finally said it out loud, and his throat is constricting and his eyes are burning.

Chris squeezes his shoulder once again, and it grounds him. Out of habit, he tries to put on his best smile, even though he knows it would never fool his best friend. “Maybe you should finally take your time for yourself. Live a little,” Chris tells him with a kind smile. “When was the last time you even went on a date with someone?”

Victor grumbles something under his breath, but the truth is – he can’t remember. He sighs and slumps on the counter. “Chris. Chris, I’ve never been in love. Every day I see all these couples, and I ask them to tell me their stories. Mila thinks I’m crazy, and that it’s incredibly boring and all the stories are the same, and they _are._ But – I love listening to them, even the most boring ones. I think I wouldn’t mind meeting the love of my life in a clichéd way. I’m twenty-eight, Chris, how can I have never been in love?”

Chris shakes his head at him indulgently. “You’re twenty-eight, not dead. It just hasn’t happened for you yet. It would definitely help if you didn’t spend all your time at the Atelier meeting people who are all in a very committed relationship, you know? But then again, you could just pull a Jennifer Lopez and snatch Matthew McConaughey from some B-list actress.”

“Can you believe I organize weddings for a living?” Victor asks then, discouraged. He can’t deny that part of the hollowness he is feeling is due to seeing people in love all the time and not having anyone in his life but his poodle.

“Bitterness doesn’t suit you, Victor. I know as well as you do that you’re a big romantic at heart, or you wouldn’t be the most requested wedding planner in New York City. Maybe it’s time you give the City a chance”.

“What are you, the new tourism ambassador?” Victor comments, but there’s no bite to his sarcasm. Chris decides to ignore his petulance.

“Just promise me you’ll try to enjoy yourself a little more instead of being a hopeless workaholic, okay? And whenever you’re feeling down, you could just _call me_. I swear I talk to your voicemail more than I talk to you,” he tells him, with a smile, and Victor is grateful for their easy banter. Grateful that Chris isn’t acting like his psychologist and still offering him his support. It doesn’t solve anything, but at least he’s not alone in it anymore. They stay at the bar some more, have a couple more drinks, and then Victor takes a taxi to his apartment. It’s neat and luxurious and it looks straight out of a magazine. It _feels_ straight out of a magazine, like nobody actually lives there.

Makkachin waiting for him at the door shakes him out of his thoughts, and he quickly takes off his coat and changes into comfortable clothes so that he can cuddle with his dog. Talking with Chris has helped a little, but it also tore the wound inside of him wide open, and it’s impossible to just ignore it now. Victor tries for a couple of minutes, hands buried in Makkachin’s fur curled with him on the couch, but his breathing becomes heavier nonetheless, and his eyes fill with tears.

 _It just hasn’t happened for you yet._ Victor hopes Chris is right, because right now he feels pretty hopeless, like his life has no shape or direction. Like he’s just there, not enjoying any of it, irrelevant day after irrelevant day. He hugs his dog tighter.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t spend the day with you, Makka. I’m sorry I’m always so sad lately. I love you,” he whispers into her fur. He falls asleep on the couch.

\---

_[23.47] Mila_

_hey Victor, I just wanted to remind you that the meeting with the future Mr. and Mrs. Nishigori has been rescheduled to tomorrow._  
_and also_  
_I wanted to tell you that we might make fun of you in the group chat, but_  
_we all love you Victor._  
_Good night x_


	2. my best friend's wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best-man-of-honor and ball of nerves Yuuri Katsuki finally meets Victor Nikiforov, wedding planner extraordinaire and also his celebrity crush. 
> 
> Just what could possibly go wrong?

Katsuki Yuuri is a nervous mess. For the twentieth time that morning he checks his outfit in the mirror, and he finds that he is about to cry hysterically because nothing works right. His beige trousers are too tight and his blue sweater is too big and just what is Victor Nikiforov going to think when he sees him? Because he's going to see him. He's about to meet Victor Nikiforov.

Katsuki Yuuri is a nervous mess because Katsuki Yuuri is a best-man-of-honor, and that means it's his duty to go to Atelier Interlude with Yuuko since Nishigori is stuck at work. When a couple of weeks ago Nishigori had asked him to be his best man, he had accepted happily, if with a little trepidation. A day later, Yuuko had asked him to be his maid of honor, and how could he say no to her? Yuuri, the first person to be by his side and the first friend he ever made when he was too shy to approach anyone. Of course he said yes. Only now he realizes just how much responsibility being a best-man-of-honor entails. There's helping Nishigori find a suit, organizing a bachelorette party and a stag party, and, of course, filling in for Nishigori and having to meet Victor Nikiforov in an hour. Yuuri thinks he is about to pass out, his heart palpitating violently in his chest and his vision blurry. There's a knock on the door, and it almost makes him jump.

 "Yuuri? Yuuri, are you okay? It's almost time for you to go," Phichit's voice comes from the other side of the door. When he doesn't get a reply, his roommate cracks the door open just a little. "Yuuri?"

"Nothing works," Yuuri is still standing in front of the mirror, his posture defeated, his eyes staring at his feet. He's wearing white converse. He's about to meet Viktor Nikiforov and he's wearing converse.

"Can I come in?" Phichit asks, gently. Yuuri nods, and he opens the door fully and comes to stand beside him: he's a bit shorter than Yuuri, his skin a bit darker and his smile contagious. Yuuri moved in with him last year and it was one of the best decision of his life. Everything is easier with Phichit, who is always able to make Yuuri smile and always ready to marathon a show eating junk food on the couch after a stressful week. Yuuri stares at their joint reflection in the mirror and Phichit smiles at him through the glass.

“Nothing fits properly,” Yuuri says, pushing his glasses on his forehead and putting his hands on his face. Patiently, Phichit takes a hold of his wrists and guides his arms down, finally turning to face him.

“Yuuri. Your clothes are fine! You look amazing, I promise. Would I ever let you meet Victor Nikiforov wearing something that didn’t suit you?” he asks. Yuuri shakes his head weakly, and Phichit’s smile grows bigger. “Exactly. Now go get him, tiger. Yuuko is waiting for you downstairs. Do you really want to be late to your first meeting with your celebrity crush?”

Yuuri groans and slaps his hands back on his face. “I wish you’d never made me watch ‘Say Yes to the Dress’,” he whines, and he really does wish he didn’t have a clue who Victor Nikiforov was, so that he could not be on the brink of a nervous breakdown. The thing is though, he’s pretty sure he would end up having one anyway as soon as he was in the same room as the famous stylist turned wedding planner. Because Victor Nikiforov is –

Beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Especially not when Victor seems to have the charisma to match his looks. Can Yuuri be blamed for developing a huge celebrity crush on him?

It takes him a few seconds to realize he’s moving, Phichit pushing him out of his room and into the living room, and then out of the front door.

“Do you remember what Victor told that bride-to-be who was late for her appointment with him on ‘Say Yes to the Dress’? You really don’t want to be late for this, Yuuri,” Phichit tells him, and he sounds as if he is just barely containing his excitement. Yuuri gives him one last desperate look before he sprints down the stairs, Phichit’s _‘seduce him, my beautiful child!”_ following him down the stairs.

Yuuko is waiting for him in a bright yellow taxi parked in front of the building, and when Yuuri opens the door and slids inside next to her she looks visibly relieved. “Thank God, Yuuri. I genuinely thought you were going to bail on me and I was _not_ about to go there by myself”. 

“I would never let you go by yourself,” Yuuri replies, and even though he feels nauseous and just generally horrible, he’s also telling the truth.

Yuuko squeezes his hand with a smile. “I know, Yuuri. That’s why I chose you,” she tells him, and Yuuri can do this, he can meet Victor Nikiforov if it means making Yuuko, his _first friend_ Yuuko, happy.

How bad can it really be?

\---

It’s bad.

Yuuri and Yuuko have just been escorted into Victor Nikiforov’s office by a red-headed girl dressed to the nines, and they are waiting for him sitting on two black chairs that are probably more expensive than Yuuri’s entire apartment. _Atelier Interlude_ is by far the most elegant place Yuuri has ever been to, with beautiful rooms dedicated to the wedding gowns full of excited brides and stylish assistants, offices that could end up in every interior design magazine and an incredible view on Central Park. It’s nothing short of intimidating, and Yuuri is definitely not prepared for what’s to come, and can feel himself getting more and more nervous as the seconds pass by.

“This place is incredible,” Yuuko says reverently, whispering even if they are alone in the room. Yuuri nods, finally daring to look around and appreciate the space surrounding him – _Victor’s office,_ his mind offers. A sudden smile pulls at his lips at the realization, and he tries to memorize every refined corner of the room so that he will be able to revisit it in his memory and, of course, describe it to Phichit. His breathing is almost back to normal when the glass door opens, the sound followed by that of footsteps on the parquet floor, and Yuuri shoots to his feet, quickly imitated by Yuuko, panic rising once again in his chest.

“I’m terribly sorry to be late,” a voice says, and then Victor Nikiforov is looking at them from the other side of the desk, wearing an apologetic smile even though he arrived barely two minutes after the scheduled time and gesturing for them to sit down. There’s a teenage boy behind him, looking grumpy while he sits on the chair placed to Victor’s left and slightly behind him.

The TV screen didn’t make him any justice, and the Victor of Yuuri’s dreams can do nothing else but pale in comparison with the man in the flesh. Victor is tall and lean, with broad shoulder and a flawless, fair complexion. His hair is a pale, cold blond, perfectly styled, and his sky-blue eyes are simply striking. The shape of his mouth, slightly downturned when he’s not smiling, is incredibly delicate, while his jaw line and cheekbones look sharp enough to cut. Yuuri knows that he’s staring, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. He thinks Yuuko is saying something, but he can’t make out the words.

Victor’s next words, spoken with cheerfulness, have the power to finally shake him out of his helpless state. “You must be the happy couple!”

“No!” Yuuri blurts out too quickly, the loud sound of his own voice startling him. Immediately, he feels heat rush to his face, and he _knows_ that he’s just turned bright red. An astounded silence follows his outburst, making him wish he just evaporate there and then. He doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t want to see the look on Victor’s face. He thinks he hears the young assistant mutter something that sounds suspiciously like ‘ _what the…’,_ but he can’t be sure because his heart is pounding in his ears, and he wants to disappear, and wow, he managed to make a fool of himself in just _one word_ , that has to be a record even for him, and –

Victor laughs.

A genuine, loud, unrestrained laughter.

Yuuri can sense Yuuko relaxing next to him and he slowly looks back up. He has never seen Victor laugh like that on television: he’s normally extremely poised and controlled. Yuuri finds that it makes him look much younger and even more beautiful, his mouth forming an adorable heart shape and his nose scrunching up just a little bit.

“Well, that’s a first,” he comments when he finally stops laughing, and his full attention is on Yuuri now. If he wasn’t already red like a beetroot, Yuuri is pretty sure he would be blushing really hard.

“Yuuri is my maid of honor,” Yuuko explains, and this time, Yuuri is sure he doesn't imagine the blond assistant's muttered _'what the fuck_ ', but Victor just laughs again, his eyes crinkling with mirth.

"This is also a first," he says, smiling at them, and he's lost a bit of his perfect posture and composure, sitting down in a more natural way and leaning forward on the desk with his arms crossed over it. Yuuri clears his voice.

"What – uhm. What Yuuko means is that I am her man of honor, I think?" he tries. "And... and I'm also her fiancé's best man. So... yeah," he finishes, stupidly. He steals a glance at Victor and finds him looking at him intently, as if he's trying to figure him out and isn't sure what to make of him yet.

"Well that's a lot of responsibility," he comments then, and did Victor just wink at him? Yuuri is going to pass out.

"Yuuri has been friends with both of us since we were children, so Takeshi and I wouldn't want anyone else to have it," Yuuko says, and Victor's gaze finally leaves Yuuri and lands on her. Yuuri feels relieved and disappointed at the same time.

"And am I right in assuming that Takeshi is the other half of the happy couple, then?" Victor asks her. Yuuko nods, smiling, and then Victor demands to know everything about how she and Takeshi met and everything that happened after. It's a story that Yuuri has heard about a million times, not to mention that he actually saw it happen right under his nose. He remembers vividly the day that Takeshi had confessed to him that he didn’t see Yuuko as just a friend anymore, and how he had been so nervous to ask her out. He remembers how Yuuko had texted him in the middle of the night to tell him that Takeshi had kissed her goodnight and how Takeshi had done the same.

Yuuri wonders if it’s boring for Victor, having to listen to the love stories of strangers. He can’t help but look at him: it’s hard not to get lost mapping his handsome features, and his silvery hair is fascinating. Victor seems to be interested in Yuuko and Takeshi’s love story, giving her his full attention and nodding every now and then. With Victor’s intense gaze directed somewhere else, he can feel some of the knots of panic in his chest and throat loosen up. It’s only then that he notices the assistant glaring at him, pen and paper forgotten in his lap, and he seems to be trying to communicate something to him – Yuuri is pretty sure that, whatever it is, it must sound pretty terrifying considering the way that his young face is twisted in an expression that could easily belong to Rosemary’s baby.

Mildly alarmed, Yuuri turns his attention to the conversation that’s still going on right beside him just in time to hear Yuuko say “…and that’s how he proposed!”

 “That’s a wonderful story, Yuuko,” Victor tells her, and he sounds sincere. Whether he really is or he’s just good at pretending, Yuuri doesn’t know, but Yuuko looks touched nonetheless. “And what about you, Yuuri,” Victor says then, looking at him, and Yuuri is just frozen on the spot, eyes going wide and face flushing down to his neck and up to his ears.

“W-what about me?”

If he didn’t know it was impossible, Yuuri would say that the disarming smile Victor directs at him almost looks _fond._

“Yuuko said that you have been there for her and Takeshi right from the very beginning. Is there anything you would like to add about their story, or about their relationship? Anything you think might make their wedding even more special?” Victor asks, gently.

If there’s one thing Yuuri hates more than anything else in the world, it’s being put on the spot, let alone when it’s his celebrity crush doing so – and yet, when he meets Yuuko’s warm, trusting eyes, he feels a wave of bravery surge through him.

“No,” he answers, with surety. The assistant drops his pen and Victor open his mouth as if to say something, but Yuuri stops him when he speaks again. “There’s nothing I could add that would make their wedding more special, because it’s the love and respect they have for each other that does, and I… I think that… I think that’s what should matter the most, that whatever you decide to do with the wedding the love that they have for each other should shine more than any decoration you can think of”.

The room falls into a perfect silence that lasts for what feels like an eternity. Finally, Victor nods solemnly.

“I will try my best, Yuuri,” he says, and this time Yuuri has no doubts about his sincerity, he can read it his eyes – eyes that still haven’t left his. The reality of what he just did washes over him like a bucket of ice cold water, but before he can overanalyze the last twenty second and spiral into a full on panic attack, the door to the office opens, and the red-haired girl who had escorted them inside is announcing the end of their appointment.

Yuuko stands up, followed suit by the other three, and thanks Victor, excitedly telling him that she can’t wait to start with the actual planning, while Yuuri stammers a goodbye and bolts out of the room – not before stealing one last look at devastatingly beautiful, real-life Victor Nikiforov.

They spend the next fifteen minutes with the assistant – “You can call me Mila” – setting appointments that go from next week to next June, and then, not even a full hour after they walked in, they’re out.

As if it had been but a dream.

\---

_[11.22] Phichit-kun_

_HOW DID IT GO_  
_Yuuriiiii!!!_  
_Yuuuuuuuuuuriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii pls answer me I need to know how it went_  
_what was he wearing???? Is he hotter in person???_  
_omg is he really short_

_[11.37] Yuuri_

_I’ll tell you when I get home tonight_

_[11.37] Phichit-kun_  
  
_: (((((_  
_that’s cruel Yuuri_  
_seriously do you have any idea how cruel this is_

_[11.45] Yuuri_

_I’m sure you’ll survive_

_[11.47] Phichit-kun_

_Yuuriiiiii_  
_you’re the worst friend ever_  
_okay that’s not true but u know what I mean_

_[13.23] Yuuri_

_He’s really tall. And he’s beautiful._

_[13.37] Phichit-kun_

_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_\---_

"An actual Roman bust? In his office?"  
  
"Yes," Yuuri says for the thousandth time. He's curled on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, Phichit sitting next to him and hanging on to his every word.

“I can’t believe you didn’t take _one_ picture. And his hair actually looks silver in real life?”

“Yes”.  
  
"And he's more beautiful in person than on TV? Wow," Phichit muses, impressed. Yuuri groans and buries his face on a pillow. He's been replaying his encounter with Victor in his head nonstop from the moment he walked out of the office up until now, and no matter how he tries to look at it, he reaches the same conclusion every time: Victor must think he's an idiot.  
  
"Yuuri, of course he doesn't!" Phichit interjects, startling him. He must have been speaking out loud without realizing.  
  
"I acted like I’d never had a social interaction before," Yuuri whines into the pillow, random bits and pieces of dialogue from that morning echoing in his ears.  
  
"I'm sure that's not true! Didn't you say you made him laugh? Twice?" Yuuri nods slowly, his shoulders sagging. "And didn't he ask for your opinion even if he didn't have to?" Phichit continues, ever the improbable voice of reason. Yuuri nods again, feeling slightly, _slightly_ less embarrassed by his brief interaction with Victor than he did just a few seconds ago. He lifts his face from the pillow, sighing deeply while he rubs his eyes.  
  
"Thanks, Phichit. I... I'm just relieved I won't have to see him again".  
  
It's the truth.

It's also a big, fat lie. As much as meeting Victor was incredibly nerve-wracking for his shy, nervous self, it was also exhilarating, and Yuuri longs to have his eyes on him again, to hold just one more moment of his attention.  
  
Phichit side eyes him, skepticism written all over his face, but he doesn't contradict him, opting for asking him more harmless questions, like what the offices look like (amazing) and whether it's true that there's an ice statue in the middle of the Atelier - (it isn't).  
Yuuri lets himself be lulled to a state of daze by the familiarity of the situation, his mind tired from all the events of the day and his body exhausted by the long hours spent at Minako Sensei's studio, where he both teaches and is taught by Minako.  
  
Yuuri could have been a professional dancer – wanted to be one, too – but his bad knee prevented him from going after a career on the stage. Yuuri doesn't mind, now. He likes teaching kids and seeing them blossom, witnessing how they learn to express their feelings and souls through their body. According to Minako, he has a gift for teaching, and although he only just started a couple of years ago, he feels like he's always been meant to do that. He still dances, although not professionally anymore, and even if he loves his job, sometimes there are days when he misses performing so much, misses the rush he would get from having a thousand eyes fixed on him, misses feeling a confidence he never has but dancing on a stage. These feelings melt quickly, though, whenever a kid shows signs of improvement and smiles at him with excitement and pride and yes. Yuuri really does love his job.  
  
Half asleep, Yuuri gets up from the couch. He feeds Phichit’s hamsters mechanically and quickly gets ready for bed, showering and changing into his poodle-printed pajamas. He says goodnight to Phichit, who has to stay up and finish some last-minute work for the online magazine he’s interning at.  
Once he’s lying under the covers, Yuuri allows himself to replay his meeting with Victor in his head one last time – only this time he grants himself some creative freedom. In this new, revised version of the events, Yuuri walks into _Atelier Interlude_ with his shoulders straight and his head up. As soon as Victor walks into the office, he shakes his hand with a confident, charming smile that would make Victor beautifully flustered. When Victor mistakes him for Takeshi, he laughs and says, with an easy smile: "Oh, no, it's not me! I'm single," - and Victor would immediately be intrigued, would want to get to know him better, and he would retrieve Yuuri's number from Mila's notes and send him a text that exact night, too eager to be able wait any longer.  
  
Yuuri's phone dings.  
  
He almost faints, his heart racing wildly in his chest while he tries to remind himself that there's no way it's actually Victor texting him. It just can't be. It can't. No way.  
Yuuri forces himself to count to ten and breathe slowly though his nose, exhale through his mouth. With shaking hands, he picks up the phone from the nightstand, the light coming from the screen blinding him for a few seconds, and then he finally can see.  
  
His notifications inform him that it's a text from Yuuko, and Yuuri hates himself for being disappointed. Still breathing heavily, he opens the message and reads it once, reads it twice, reads it again and this time there's no way his heart hasn't completely stopped.  
  
_[23.02] Yuu-chan_  
  
_Thank you so much for coming with me today!!_  
_I just got a message from Mila: Victor would like to meet with you to go over some things he doesn't want me or Takeshi to see - apparently it’s a surprise!_  
_I know he makes you nervous, so it's totally okay if you don't want to :)_  
_but if you do – here’s Mila’s number. Contact her and she will schedule an appointment for you!_  
_Goodnight Yuuri-kun :)_  
  
Yuuri can only clutch his phone to his chest and hold on tight.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who read\commented\left kudos, it means the world to me.
> 
> I managed to update way earlier than I thought, but my exams are around the corner, so I don't really know how long it will take to post chapter 3 - hopefully 2 weeks top :)
> 
> Please leave me a comment and kudos if you liked this, and come say hi on tumblr at byebyeholocene :)  
> PS. this fic is unbetad- feel free to point out any mistakes!


	3. you had me at 'hello'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Victor is a man with a plan, Yuuri is back at Atelier Interlude and we meet Mama Nikiforov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little out of hand and it was pretty hard to write, but I'm really happy with the results! I hope you will like it too :) ♥ 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left a kudo\comment, it means the world!

_[07:37] Mila_

_I just got a text from Yuuri!!!_  
_he will be here tomorrow at 5_  
_good luck!!!!!_

Victor reads Mila’s text for what must be the hundredth time and just can’t hold back his grin, or how excited he feels. He will see Yuuri again. He will see Yuuri again tomorrow, at five.  
Katsuki Yuuri, who took his breath away with gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and plush lips. Yuuri who is shy and blushes easily, and whose dark hair was adorably disheveled no matter how much he tried to comb it down while he sat in front of Victor. Yuuri with his lithe body and his beautiful, long neck, and a sweater that’s a little too big for him and shows just a touch too much of his left clavicle. Yuuri who walked into his office and like a quiet, unexpected summer drizzle flooded the whole place and left Victor to _drown_ in his wake.

Victor can’t remember the last time someone surprised him like that. He’s so used to everyday being like the one before, to everything going according to his plans and schedule. Maybe Chris is right, maybe he _is_ missing out, especially if never going out in the city except for formal events is keeping him from meeting people like Yuuri.

He doubts it, though. Yuuri is unlike anyone he has met, and he has met a lot of people at the numerous prestigious events he has attended: the Oscars, the MET Gala, the Fashion Awards, with all those famous, glamorous people – none of them stand a chance against Katsuki Yuuri telling him, eyes alight and cheeks red, that nothing he will ever plan will matter when compared to the love his best friends have for each other. Victor should probably feel offended, but instead, he’s absolutely thrilled. He hadn’t been able to predict any of Yuuri’s reactions during their appointment a couple of days ago, from the blush gracing his round cheeks and nose whenever Victor would look at him long enough, to the fervor with which he had expressed his wishes for the Nishigori wedding.

Victor can’t wait to see him again, for those beautiful, warm eyes to look at him, and –

A ball of paper hits his face really hard.

“Stop it!” Yuri is glaring at him from across his office, an absolutely disgusted expression on his face.

“Yura, that was very rude,” Victor comments, knowing that his step-brother can’t stand it when he replies with gracious politeness to his teenage anger.

“You’re rude! You’re forcing all of us to witness to that stupid expression on your face!” Yuri retorts, sitting across from him without asking for his permission and putting a foot on the chair.

“Why don’t you complain about it in your secret little group chat, then?” Victor knows he’s being petty, but he can’t help himself. He adds a cheerful smile for good measure, and can see Yuri’s exasperation grow exponentially.

“I already have, but they… they’re all going on about how _good_ this is for you,” he finishes, grumbling. Victor can’t help but grinning.

“Do they, now?”

“Even Lilia,” Yuri tells him, an accusing, betrayed look on his face. “Ever since Mila told us that _best-man-of-honor_ would be back tomorrow everyone in the chat has been so insufferable. They even placed bets”.

“Lilia is in the chat? Lilia knows how to _text_?”

“That’s not the point, you dumbass!”

“Then what is the point, Yura?”

Yuri bites his lip, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to set his words free.

“The _point_ is that my money is on you. I will kill you if you make me lose it”.

 Victor’s heart warms upon hearing Yuri’s camouflaged blessing, and he almost gets up to do something like hug him or ruffle his hair, but stops when he realizes that Yuri would probably bite his head off, and he really doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He smiles brightly instead, as he nods.

“By the way. Your mother wants to see you,” Yuri tells him, getting up to leave. “She wants you to come for dinner tonight, and she won’t accept excuses. She says it’s been way too long”.

It has, Victor knows it. He feels a little pang of guilt as he remembers that he last visited his mom was over a month ago. Being with his mother isn’t always easy, especially when he sees her worry about him, her pale blue eyes, identical to his, looking at him with caution. He knows she thinks it’s her fault if he’s sad, if he’s _lonely_ , and he can’t stand seeing the remorse on her face: contrarily to him, she has never been good at hiding her feelings.

He supposes today is different, though. Today, he can go visit his mother with a genuine smile on his face and sincere hope in his heart. He knows it’s probably foolish, to let a stranger have his heart like this, but when he say Yuuri for the first time he just had a gut feeling: it was like something shifted into place inside of him, a quiet recognition. _It’s you_ , his soul had whispered, fragile but insistent.

It’s hope. And Victor clings to it desperately.

\---

“Vitenka!” The door hasn’t even closed behind him yet and Victor is already being smothered by his mom. He lets himself be hugged and squeezes her back with a smile while she starts reprimanding him for never visiting. It’s nice to be scolded in his own language, Victor thinks. It sounds like home, familiar.  

“Hi, mama,” he smiles at her when she finally lets him go to greet Makkachin, before the dog is lured outside by Yuri with a ball. She’s shorter than him by a whole head, and when she smiles at him Victor sees his own mouth and eyes as if he was looking in a mirror.

“Look at you, have you gotten taller since last month?” she asks, a glint of humor in her voice. Victor laughs and starts following her down the hall.

“I’m twenty-eight, mama. I’m going to start getting shorter soon, what with my back hunching and all,” he comments, making her laugh in return, as they walk into the kitchen.

The house is a lovely two-storey in the suburbs of New York, where his mom has moved three or four years ago, right after marrying Yuri’s dad, Andrey Plisetsky. That day was one of the happiest of Victor’s life, where he got to see his mother finally marry a good man, someone who looked at her as if she had hung the stars in the sky. Yuri’s mom had tragically died in childbirth, and Andrey, left a widower, has raised Yuri with the help of his father, Nikolai. Victor respects him immensely, and although Yuri definitely has an _interesting_ personality, he can tell that Andrey has done a fine job at bringing him up all by himself, and he’s incredibly moved that two people who had been so hurt in the past could find joy and love together and get another chance at life.

He smells the air around them, filled with familiar smells of herbs and spices.

“Are you making Pelmeni?” he asks, mouth watering. God, he has missed his mother’s cooking.

She smiles, nodding, and even lets him taste one before they’re fully ready, giving him a conspiratorial wink.  “And Piroshky as well,” she tells him, pointing at them in the oven. “You know how much Yura loves them”.

“Oh, I know. I had to forbid him from eating them around the wedding gowns,” he says, shuddering at the thought of his precious designs coming into contact with Yuri’s favorite snack.

“How is our Yura doing at his first internship?” his mother asks then, while she hands him a pile of plates to set on the table in the adjacent dining room. Victor takes them and offers an amused expression.

“Let’s just say that he hasn’t tried to kill me with a frappuccino this week,” he answers, setting the plates down carefully. There’s a beat of silence before his mother calls him back into the kitchen, corners him and speaks again, her voice bristling with excitement as she grabs him by the hands and stares up at him with hopeful eyes.

“Yura told me you met someone,” she says, a huge smile on her face. “Is it true? Who is it? Do I know him? Is he Russian? Does he – “

Victor slaps a hand on her mouth, slightly embarrassed and greatly entertained.

“Mama,” he says as he lowers his hand. “I promise I’ll tell you everything, but calm down a little, da?”

She nods frantically, practically bouncing on her feet as she waits for him to continue.

“His name is also Yuuri, and he’s not Russian, he’s Japanese. He came to my office for an appointment the other day, and – “

“VITYA!” she stares at him scandalized. “He’s _engaged_? I’ve raised you better than this! I – “

“Mama, of course he’s not engaged!” Victor brings a hand up to cover his face, incredulous. “Who do you think I am? I would never do that! He was there because he’s best friends with the couple getting married”.

“Oh,” his mother says, looking a little abashed. “I’m sorry, Vitenka, of course you wouldn’t. It’s just that I saw this film the other day with Jennifer Lopez, and I thought…”

“What is it with people suddenly comparing me to Jennifer Lopez?” he mumbles, thinking about Chris mentioning the exact same movie to him the other night.

“She’s a very beautiful woman, so you should be happy about it”. Before he can remark that none of this is making any sense, his mother goes on with the conversation. “So he’s not engaged. That’s good. What else?”

“He’s lovely, mama. He’s so beautiful and a bit shy, and I don’t know anything about him but I _want to_. I really, really want to”. Victor blushes a little and lowers his eyes to the ground before looking up at his mother, suddenly nervous to have her opinion. She doesn’t say anything for a bit, but she takes his hands in her own again and smiles fondly. Victor thinks she looks slightly relieved, too.

“Then do it”, she tells him then, her voice soft but firm. “Get to know him”.

Victor nods, feeling like an eight-year-old again with how much he wants to hug his mother and ask for her reassurance. He swallows, heart beating heavy in his chest. “What… what if he doesn’t want to?”

A warm hand comes up to cradle his face. “Vitenka, моё золото. You are such a kind, beautiful boy. Anyone would be lucky to be with you”.

“’m not a boy,” he mumbles, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

 “If this Yuuri caught your eye, then he must be special,” his mother starts saying, but her pep talk comes to an abrupt end when Yuri storms into the kitchen – “I don’t want to hear about any of _that” –_ all but throwing himself at the plate of piroshky while Makkachin tries to walk into the kitchen and is quickly escorted into the living room by Victor. He can’t help but smile while he rubs his dog’s belly, filled with affection and reassured by his mother’s words.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

\---

_[23.19] Chris_

_Bonne chance pour demain, Vic_  
_Tu vas bien t'en sortir_  
_;)_  
_\- but call me if you need me, okay?_  
_And keep me posted!_

_[00.04] Victor_

_Would it be too much if I bought him flowers?  
Or chocolate_

_[00.06] Chris_

_Victor, doesn’t the poor guy think he’s coming to the office to discuss his friends’ wedding?_

_[00.07] Victor_

_Is that a no?_

_[00.08] Chris_

_… mon Dieu._

\---

Then, tomorrow is here.  
Tomorrow is today, and by now Victor can’t focus on anything that isn’t the watch on his wrist, now telling him that it’s 4.45 pm, which means that Katsuki Yuuri will be here soon. The collar of his shirt feels suddenly too tight, and he tries to adjust it with a finger while he absentmindedly checks his phone for emails.

He has everything planned for Yuuri’s arrival: he’s going to offer him a glass of champagne – which he might or might not have had Mila buy from the most exclusive French-wine store of the city – and then he will explain that he needs his help to prepare some surprises for the Nishigoris, and could they maybe discuss it over dinner? Of course, he has booked a table for two at his favorite rooftop restaurant. Everything is ready. That is, everything is ready except for him.  
Victor hasn’t felt this nervous since probably his debut at Paris Fashion Week, and when the clock strikes ten to five he realizes that not even sitting right beside Anna Wintour made him _this_ nervous.

Victor rushes into the elevator while the doors are starting to close, fresh off his meeting with Lilia about his new designs, and tries to control his emotion, worrying suddenly that he has used too much cologne and that he should have just gotten a haircut this week even though the last one was barely ten days ago.

“Sorry, uhm… which floor?”

Victor turns around so fast that he hurts his neck.  

He thought he might have idealized him a little in his mind, but he knows not that he was absolutely, completely wrong. Yuuri is breathtakingly gorgeous, even as he stands awkwardly beside him in the elevator, fidgeting with the sleeves of his burgundy sweater and pushing his glasses up on his nose. His eyes are big and of a lovely shade of chocolate brown, his cheeks are round and his neck long and elegant. His body is slim, and even if he seems tense he carries himself gracefully. His black hair looks incredibly soft, and Victor is struck by the sudden desire to run his hands through it.

Victor is a goner.

“Uhm…” Yuuri says, looking at him expectantly while he rubs the back of his neck.

It’s only then that Victor realizes with horror that he hasn’t said a word for a good minute, too awestruck for his brain to function.

“Upstairs,” he blurts out, which is an incredibly stupid thing to say considering that they are at the twenty-second floor of a skyscraper of thirty five. “I mean! Twenty-third. The Atelier is on two floors. Welcome back, Yuuri,” he pulls out the big guns and offers Yuuri his trademark Victor Nikiforov smile, the one that never fails to land the cover of any magazine, hoping that the recovery was swift enough that his défaillance will have gone unnoticed.

Yuuri offers him a small, shy smile, and _oh,_ his blush is even prettier from up close.

“Thank you,” he replies, daring a glance in Victor’s direction before quickly averting his eyes.

In Victor’s plan, at this point he would be offering Yuuri champagne and perhaps showing him the view from his office and flirting smoothly. Reality is much different, with the ding of the elevator signaling that they have arrived and the doors opening to Yuri insulting Mila in Russian while the Crispino twins argue in Italian over dahlias versus roses and Georgi runs past them holding what should be an illegal amount of tulle in his arms. Victor is at a loss for what to do.

As soon as they are noticed, everyone in the Atelier’s offices falls silent at the same exact moment. It’s one of the most awkward moments of Victor’s entire existence. He clears his throat, sending death glares to everyone as he feels Yuuri getting tense next to him. Luckily, Mila gets the hint and starts talking again, a bit too loud, followed suit by everyone but Yuri, who keeps staring at them with an unimpressed expression on his face. Letting out a sigh of relief, Victor turns towards Yuuri.

“Let’s go to my office, shall we?” Yuuri nods, still looking a little flustered by the amount of attention he received a few seconds ago, and follows him down the hall. Victor opens the glass door of his office and holds it for Yuuri, not without noticing the pretty blush that graces Yuuri’s face at the gesture. Victor can’t help but smile.

Yuuri sits in front of him on the other side of the desk, looking down at his hands nervously. While Victor finds it endearing when Yuuri gets flustered, he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. He’s about to offer him some champagne and start talking about the wedding and how he desperately needs his help when Yuuri’s eyes fall on the picture of Makkachin and a young, long-haired Victor that he keeps on his desk.

“I love dogs,” Yuuri says, a little loud compared to his soft-spoken self. Victor can’t help but smile, enamored, as he takes his phone out of his pocket and quickly opens the ‘Makkachin’ folder.

“Would you like to see more?” he asks, offering it to Yuuri, who nods and takes it enthusiastically, his praising comments growing more animated with every picture. Victor really wants to keep that happy, open smile on his face for as long as he can.

“She’s so cute! Oh, look at her fluffy ears! And her nose!” Yuuri is practically cooing at the phone, and if Victor wasn’t sure before he is now: he is going to marry this man.

“Would you like to meet her?” he asks him, hoping to sound casual and not like he’s picturing what their babies will look like.

Yuuri looks up, mouth dropped open and eyes shining. “Really?” Victor nods, smirking at Yuuri’s obvious excitement. Yuuri smiles back, and it’s delicate and shy and stunning.

"Is she here now?" he asks, hopeful. Victor shakes his head, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"No but she will be in forty minutes or so. My dog sitter usually brings her here when I get off from work, so that I can walk her in Central Park before I go home," he explains. "You could come with us," he says then, hopeful, his heart beating a little faster as he waits for a reply. Yuuri is quiet, his expression unreadable, and Victor feels the sting of rejection, stronger with every second of silence between them.

"You're asking me to walk your dog with you?" Yuuri sounds uncertain, and of course he would be. Victor is a stranger to him; why would Yuuri want to walk a stranger's dog?

"I'm sorry," Victor starts, trying to mask his disappointment behind a fake smile. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought - "

"I would love to".

" - that you might... wait, what?" Victor looks at him, dumbfounded: Yuuri is blushing again, face, neck and ears, but his big, brown eyes are planted firmly on Victor's.

"I would love to walk your dog with you", he repeats, barely more than a whisper.

Victor feels himself beam, smiling like he hasn't smiled in ages, maybe in forever, and it makes Yuuri smile too while he lowers his gaze bashfully. Victor is too happy to say anything for a moment, and it's Yuuri who has to pick up the conversation again.

"So, uhm - you wanted to surprise Yuuko and Takeshi?" he asks – and well, Victor had completely forgotten about that. They spend the next half an hour talking about the Nishigori's wedding, Yuuri giving Victor plenty of ideas and inside information about the happy couple while Victor remembers he is the best wedding planner in the country and starts taking notes like the professional he is, only sometimes getting distracted by Yuuri's lips, Yuuri's eyes, Yuuri's hands, Yuuri's everything. Maybe a little more than sometimes.  
He finds that Yuuri can be much more confident when he's talking about something that he's passionate about, like his job as a dance teacher (and doesn’t that explain his gracefulness). Victor loves this new side of him, and he can't wait to discover more. Talking to Yuuri is easy, and when Mila opens the office door to tell him that Emil, Makkachin’s dog sitter, is waiting for him downstairs, Victor finds himself genuinely surprised that time has flown by so quickly.

He gets up from his chair and grabs his coat before turning towards Yuuri. “Ready?” he asks him with a smile and a wink. Yuuri nods enthusiastically and follows through the hall and into the elevator, so happy at the prospect of meeting Makkachin that he doesn’t even realize how _everyone_ is staring at them, Yuri making puking noises in the background and Georgi drying his eyes with a purple silk handkerchief.

They ride the elevator in comfortable silence, and as soon as they exit the building through the revolving door, Makkachin jumps Victor almost knocking him down, her tail wiggling wildly behind her.  
Victor laughs, crouching to let Makkachin greet him properly and lick his face a couple times.

“You missed me, my дорого́й?” he asks her, while he rubs her neck with a smile. “Of course you did! But look, Makka, I’ve brought you a new friend!” he says then, getting up and encouraging Yuuri, who is staring at his dog as if she was the eighth wonder of the world,  to step forward with a nod and a smile.

Yuuri crouches with reverence and trepidation, and it takes Makkachin about half a second to start showering him with enthusiastic affection. Yuuri is the portrait of happiness while he pets Makkachin and coos at her, and Victor can do nothing but stare at the two of them with unabashed fondness, completely forgetting about saying goodbye to Emil or about the obvious looks of the passersby who recognize him.

When Makkachin has calmed down a bit, Victor grabs her leash and starts walking towards Central Park, Yuuri at his side.

“She’s so cute, Victor,” Yuuri sighs, while they enter the park. It’s the first time Yuuri has called him by name, and Victor has to take a moment to steady his heart before he replies.

“She really likes you, you know. She’s a very affectionate dog, but I’ve rarely seen her take to someone so fast. You’re really good with dogs”.

Yuuri offers him a small smile, lowering his head a little. “I used to have a toy poodle,” he says then, and Victor can tell from the quiet tone of his voice that this is an important subject for him. “He – he died, a couple of months ago”.

“Oh, Yuuri”. Victor stops in the middle of the path, Makkachin snuggling to his leg, and he turns so that they are face to face. Yuuri seems sad all of a sudden, eyes downcast and worrying his lower lip with his teeth. It makes Victor’s heart ache. “I’m so sorry,” Victor says, and really he means it. Without thinking, he lifts his hand and touches Yuuri’s shoulder gently, close to the spot where it joins his long neck.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says, although his voice is wavering a little. “He had a good life. I just… I just really miss him sometimes,” he confesses. Before he can stop himself, Victor starts rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder with his thumb.

“Of course,” he says, gently. Yuuri looks awfully close to crying, and he’s so small and delicate, his eyelids fluttering to try and hold back the tears. Victor can’t stand it. “I know it’s not the same,” he starts, slowly, “but I want you to know that you can join me and Makka on our walks every time you like. I mean it, Yuuri. It would be our pleasure”.

It must be the right thing to say, because Yuuri is suddenly looking at him with shining eyes. “Really?” he asks, incredulous.

Victor nods, smiling, his hand still on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Really,” he repeats, before he takes out his phone and hands it to Yuuri. “You can save your number, if you like. I’ll text you so that you’ll have my personal one,” he tells him.

Yuuri holds the phone but doesn’t do anything more, he just stares at Victor, his mouth slightly agape. Victor is about to start scolding himself for his forwardness when Yuuri hugs him, arms tight around his middle and face buried in his chest, where Victor is sure Yuuri will be able to hear his heart beat wildly.

“Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri murmurs into his shirt.

Victor has had partners before; some of them were flings, some lasted a bit longer. He’s had fun with all of them, has liked them, but he’s never fallen in love. _‘It just hasn’t happened for you yet,’_ Chris had told him.  
Victor has never been in love, so he doesn’t have any basis for comparison but, as Yuuri’s smaller body fits perfectly against his, as if Yuuri is _meant_ to be in his arms, making him wish he would never step away, he thinks there’s no way this isn’t it.

Victor Nikiforov, renowned wedding planner and stylist, always on top of the ‘Most Eligible Bachelors’ list, is irredeemably, helplessly in love with Katsuki Yuuri.

\---

_[19.34] Chris_

_Victor??_  
_Mon cher? How did it go?_  
_Is it still going? ;)_  
_Do I need to buy Haagen-Dazs_

_[19.41] Victor_

_I’m going to marry him_

_[19.50] Chris_

_Oh dear_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! I sure loved writing it. My most difficult exam will be next week, so I'm probably going to update sometime after the 22nd, but you never know! :)  
> Please leave kudos\comments if you liked it and come say hi on Tumblr at byebyeholocene! 
> 
> Translations:  
> моё золото = my gold  
> Bonne chance pour demain, Vic, tu vas bien t'en sortir = good luck for tomorrow, Vic, you will be fine!  
> дорого́й = dear


	4. wouldn't it be nice?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Yuuri doesn't text Victor back but Victor - and Hiroko, and Yuuko, and Phichit - definitely have different plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exam season is slowly but surely destroying me and my self esteem, but I managed to finish this chapter! I really hope you will like it, I tried my best ♥ 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left a kudo\comment, it means the world!

Yuuri never texts Victor.

Ever since his second meeting with the wedding planner, now almost a week ago, he has slowly but steadily managed to convince himself that there’s no point in getting his hopes up – not that it was that difficult a task to begin with. The more he thinks about what happened last Friday, the more embarrassed he gets about his own behavior.

  
Victor Nikiforov is the most beautiful man he’s ever met. He’s kind, too, and he has an adorable poodle that he evidently loves very much, a poodle that made Yuuri cry in front of Victor – and it was only because of his tears, Yuuri is sure of that, that Victor had offered him to walk Makkachin together. Sure, it had seem like a genuine gesture, and Yuuri thinks that it was, because Victor obviously has a good heart and had probably pitied Yuuri so much he had felt obliged to say something nice to him to make him stop crying. Or maybe he had been embarrassed that Yuuri was crying in front of him in public and just wanted to make him stop as quickly as possible.

  
Whatever the reason, Yuuri is certain that Victor doesn’t _actually_ want him to text. Because Victor is Victor _Nikiforov_ , and Yuuri is… well, he’s just Yuuri. A dime a dozen person who teaches kids dancing for a living and who could maybe have been a decent dancer had the injury not kept him from trying.  
So, Yuuri doesn’t text Victor, no matter how many times Phichit begs him to change his mind and give Victor a chance to prove that he actually meant what he said.  
  
He keeps his number though.  
Not because he thinks that one day he will actually decideto text him – he would never take advantage of Victor’s kindness like that. No, he keeps the number as proof that there was one day, one _moment_ , where Victor Nikiforov had known who Yuuri was and had smiled sweetly at him. Just that.  
  
The fact that he sees Victor’s face _everywhere_ , and that now it actually hurts to look at him, is just something that he will have to learn to live with until he gets over his silly crush. Not being able to watch _Say Yes to the Dress_ with Phichit is just collateral damage. Victor visiting him in his dreams, pale blue eyes and heart-shaped smile, is his punishment for letting himself hope, even if for a short moment. All these feelings he expresses through his dancing, trying to set them free. It males Minako ask him what compelled him to work on a new choreography, one that she defined as ‘full of longing and heartbreak, Yuuri. Do you care to tell me what’s going on?’ – but Yuuri hadn’t known what to say.

Something hits him on the head. It’s a slipper, belonging to his sister, who’s now staring at him from the doorway of his old room. It’s Sunday, and he’s at his parents’ place. He goes there for lunch every week, and he likes getting to sit in his old room and play a bit of piano or just relax and do nothing for a couple hours – which is what he was doing before getting interrupted just now.

“Mari! Why would you do that?” he snaps, irritated.

“Say, Yuuri,” his sister tells him, a slight grin on her face, and Yuuri has known his sister all his life and he can see trouble coming from a mile away when it comes to Mari. Right now, as she steps into his room with a hand on her hips, she _definitely_ means trouble. “Are the wedding plans going alright?” she asks, casually.

“Uh, yeah,” Yuuri replies, hoping to delay the inevitable. He’s not sure how much Mari knows – but she does know _something_ , that much he sees written on her face. “They’re coming along fine, I think”.

“I guess when you have Victor Nikiforov organizing your wedding you can be sure it will be a success”. Yuuri wishes she would get it over with, but Mari has always enjoyed torturing him a little. After all, isn’t that what older siblings do?

“Yeah,” he says, bracing himself for the impact.

“And have you met him?”

There it is. Yuuri knows he should just tell her the truth and put himself out of this misery, but there’s still a small chance that Mari doesn’t _actually_ know and is just trying to trick him into revealing something to her.

“Not really,” he lies, despite knowing that he’s the worst liar in the entire world and that his sister is well aware of that. “O-only with Yuuko, when I went with her for her first appointment, but she was the one to do the talking”. Well it’s a half truth, at least, and Yuuri is kind of proud of himself for only stuttering once.

“Oh, really?” Mari says, raising her eyebrows in an exaggerated way, fake innocence in her voice. “That’s strange,” she adds then, placing a finger on her chin and pretending to be lost in thought.

He shouldn’t ask. If he asks, he will lose.

He asks anyway.

“W-why is that strange?”

“Oh, nothing. I just figured you had to at least have talked to him once, you know? Since he’s currently standing in our living room”.

\---

For a moment, Yuuri had hoped it was a joke – it’s not.

When he finally gathers the courage to get out of his room – not before having changed out of his sweats and into a pair of jeans – Victor is chatting with his mom , sitting at the kitchen table while she serves him tea and cake with familiarity, as if he was a regular neighbor and not one of the most famous wedding planners and stylists in the country, if not the world. Victor doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Yuuri’s chest aches with longing at the sight of just how much he looks like he _belongs_ in Yuuri’s childhood home.

“Yuuri!” he beams as soon as he spots him standing frozen on the doorway. “Your mom’s cake is the best thing that I’ve ever tried in my life – and I’ve been to Ladureé in Paris,” he says, enthusiastically enough that he makes Yuuri’s mother blush and wave her hand at him dismissively. He’s not wearing one of his usual suits today, and if possible he looks even better in casual clothes than he does in formal ones, the navy blue sweater making his eyes look even more striking.

Yuuri opens his mouth and closes it a few times before he can manage to say anything in reply, and he can hear his mother chuckling at the stove.

“Victor – what – uhm, what are you doing here?” he finally says, still not entering the kitchen.

“Yuuri!” his mom exclaims, appalled. “Is this the way to treat a guest?”

 “I- I’m sorry!” Yuuri exclaims, blushing furiously. It figures that Victor would have Yuuri’s own mother on his side within about five seconds of them knowing each other. “I just… I wasn’t expecting you,” he tries again. Victor’s smile just brightens even more in reply.

“Of course you weren’t!” he chirps, resting his chin on his hand, elbow on the table, and tilting his head. “It was Yuuko’s idea that I come here,” he explains, gleefully. “I was supposed to go cake-tasting with her, but she caught a cold and had to cancel at the last minute, so she told me you could come with me instead! She said you have a good palate and that she trusts your judgment unconditionally”.

“Uhm, I – I don’t know if that’s a great idea. I mean, what if I pick something they don’t like?” he tries.

“Don’t be silly, Yuuri!” his mom interrupts him, and even though she’s smiling he can read the thinly veiled threat in her face just fine. “Yuuko said she trusted you, so you should do this for her and help pick a wedding cake”.

“But I thought you needed my help at the shop today, you said that – “

“We can manage just fine without you,” she trills, practically throwing him out of the kitchen before she turns towards Victor. “Our Yuuri really does have a good palate, you know? You should come here for dinner one of these days and try Katsudon! That’s his favorite dish,” she tells him.

“Mom! Victor doesn’t have _time_ to come try Katsudon, he – “

“I would love to, Mrs. Katsuki. Thank you for the invitation and for spoiling me with that delicious cake,” Victor interrupts him with his usual grace, and Yuuri watches in disbelief as the taller man leans down to kiss his mother’s hand, making her laugh. He’s still staring when Victor finally turns towards him and grins, throwing in a wink for good measure before following him out of the house, where a car is waiting for them.

“I hope you don’t mind if I drive us there,” he says, once they have reached the ridiculously expensive car. “The place we’re going is pretty close to where you live,” he adds, and if Yuuri didn’t know better he would actually think that Victor seems a little nervous now that they’re alone.

Still too shocked at the situation, Yuuri just nods silently. Victor smiles and unlocks the car, opening the passenger door for Yuuri, who tries and fail not to blush at the gesture. Victor slides into the driver seat and, a second later, they’re leaving.

\---

_[15.20] Yuuri_

_Yuuko, why would you do this to me?_

_[15.21] Yuuko_

_I’m sorry, Yuuri, but I just don’t think you were giving him a fair chance_  
_And you deserve a fair chance too, you know_  
_You like him, and I know you won’t believe this, but I really think he likes you too_  
_Just have fun today, okay? I love you!_

_\---_

Riding in a car with Victor Nikiforov as your driver feels a little like an out of body experience – and also a near-death experience because everything Yuuri has heard about Russian driving is absolutely, one-hundred percent _true._

It’s not just the driving, though. Yuuri is used to seeing Victor perfectly composed, clothes on point, hair styled and a casual, elegant charm to everything he does.  
_This_ Victor is… currently singing along to a shockingly bad Russian pop song, which has Yuuri actively trying to hide his amused grin – but it also leaves him confused, because Victor suddenly feels a little more human to him, and it’s a scary thing, it suddenly makes him feel more _real,_ more _there.  
  
_ Victor is a terrible driver.  
Victor can’t carry a tune and apparently likes really awful music.  
Victor likes Yuuri’s mother’s cakes and tea.  
Victor is a figure-skating enthusiast and he secretly wishes he could organize a figure-skating themed wedding for a change.  
  
Yuuri can’t wrap his head around any of these new discoveries, and Victor must notice his constant, baffled staring because he blushes a little and then he quickly composes himself, falling quiet as they park. The next time he looks at Yuuri, he’s wearing his famous smile, the one he likes to flash to the cameras and when he accepts an award.  
Yuuri has always thought Victor’s smile was incredibly attractive, but decides in that very moment that he hates it, because it doesn’t hold a candle to the more genuine, less controlled heart-shaped one that he now knows as well. Yuuri wants to see that one again _right now,_ only he doesn’t know how to make that happen – especially not when it was his awkwardness that made Victor feel like he had to put a façade in front of him.  
Before he can think of something to say, Victor parks them in front of a small French patisserie, and just looking at the window shop, full of decadent-looking cakes and sweets, makes his mouth water.

“You’ve got a sweet tooth?” Victor asks him with a grin, and Yuuri flushes with embarrassment.

“I… Uh, I do,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck and averting Victor’s gaze. “I don’t eat a lot of sweets, though, because I gain weight easily, and for dancing I have to… you know”. Victor probably doesn’t know, and Yuuri is willing to bet that he is one of those obnoxious people who can eat whatever they want thanks to their amazing metabolism. “I used to be chubby before I had my growth spurt,” he adds then, because Victor’s still looking at him, and it just makes Yuuri unable to function like a normal human being.

Victor just smiles at him, though – a real smile, a sweet, quiet one that’s just for him, and that makes his eyes look so gentle. “I’m sure you looked adorable,” he says, and although it’s obviously a lie, Yuuri finds that he doesn’t mind that much.

“I’m surprised my mom didn’t show you any pictures,” he replies, a small smile of his own as he pushes his glasses up out of habit.

“I’ll have to remember to ask her next time, then,” Victor tells him with a grun, and Yuuri has to will his heart not to jump out of his throat at such a casual mention of ‘next time’. _It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything,_ he repeats in his head, because the idea that Victor might actually be serious is just outright _terrifying,_ and with every nice thing Victor says, with every smile and kind gesture, with every new exuberance that makes Victor more real to him, his celebrity crush is also turning into a real crush. Which is absurd, Yuuri knows. He’s just setting himself up for failure, for heartbreak. There’s no way that someone like Victor could ever be interested in Yuuri, who’s wearing mismatched socks and has never owned cologne in his entire life.

“Yuuri? Are you okay?” Yuuri snaps out of his trance to find Victor looking at him with a nervous expression on his face. “You don’t have to eat the cakes if you don’t want to,” Victor tells him, sounding a little concerned.

“No!” Yuuri exclaims, a bit too loud. “No, I – I want to. Taste them, I want to taste the cakes,” he stammers out pathetically. Victor still seems unconvinced.

“Are you sure? We can do something else, if you want. I can move this to another day, or…”

“Victor,” Yuuri interrupts him, placing a calming hand on Victor’s forearm before he can manage to stop himself. It works: Victor’s rambling pauses immediately as his eyes travel down to stare at Yuuri’s hand on his arm. Yuuri quickly moves it, before opening the door and walking in, Victor following.

 As soon as the shop owner, an incredibly elegant French lady, recognizes Victor, she insist that they try the new specialties before they even start the cake tasting. She also insists on speaking French to Victor, so Yuuri is left standing there awkwardly with cake as his only companion. At some point, the lady says something that has Victor blushing really hard, immediately noticeable on his paler skin. Yuuri can only wonder, even though he’s pretty sure that she must have flirted with Victor. He hates it, but he doesn’t blame her one bit. He would flirt with Victor too if only he knew how.

After what feels like an eternity, she finally leads them to the cake testing room, bright because of the big windows facing a beautiful garden, where she illustrates the ingredients and flavors of each dessert before leaving them alone for the tasting.

"Wow," Yuuri breathes, staring at the slices of cakes in front of them. The atmosphere in the room is peaceful and sunny, and Yuuri feels some of his anxiousness slowly starting to dissipate.

"They are works of art," Victor agrees with a smile, before taking a fork and handing it to Yuuri. "Shall we try the first one?" Yuuri nods and takes a forkful out of the first cake, the one with the strawberries and raspberries. It's delicious, and he can't stop the noise of approval coming out of his mouth. It makes Victor chuckle.

"Bкусно," he says. Yuuri has no idea what it means, but he's pretty sure Victor is on the same page as him regarding the cake.  
They try all the other cakes, taking their time to enjoy them, and Yuuri is surprised by how easy Victor is to be around, much less intimidating now that he has smeared pink frosting on his cheek without realizing and is telling a story about that time he tried to bake a chocolate cake and had to call the firemen because he practically set his own kitchen on fire.

"... so they arrived and I was standing there with a yellow apron on and kitchen gloves and there was smoke everywhere, and – “ Victor's voice dies in his throat as Yuuri's hand comes up to cradle his cheek and wipe the frosting away with a thumb. Victor's skin is freshly shaven, and it feels soft and smooth under his fingers. As soon as Yuuri realizes what he's doing, he snatches his hand away blushing furiously.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" he squeaks, shocked by his own boldness. "It's just - frosting. You had frosting on your cheek and I – uh. It's clean now," he glances up at Victor, expecting him to look annoyed or offended, but instead Victor looks rather endeared, his blue eyes kind and lips curved upwards.

Yuuri can't stand it. Having someone looking at him like that - having Victor look at him like that - is too much for his anxious heart to handle. To distract himself, he takes a huge bite out of the last cake and stuffs his face with it, managing to stress eat even in an elegant French patisserie. _So classy, Yuuri._

"Why didn't you text?"

The whispered, sudden question almost makes him suffocate, his mouth too full to allow him to properly hyperventilate. He manages to swallow the cake without dying, and when he looks at Victor he finds him staring at him nervously. Victor can get nervous Victor can get nervous because of _Yuuri_.

"I'm sorry," Victor says before Yuuri can think of a proper response that isn't 'the only time I tried to text back I threw the phone away and hid in a closet for twenty minutes'. "That was rude. I'm sure you had your reasons not to," he looks sad for a moment, eyes downcast, but when he looks up, flipping is bangs out of his forehead, his trademark smile, the one Yuuri doesn't love that much anymore, is back. "We should pick a cake!"

The change is so abrupt that it leaves Yuuri speechless, his heart beating fast at the realization that there is a possibility that Victor had actually hoped he would text. He hadn’t really considered this as a real option before, despite Phichit telling him over and over again that Victor would have never given him his number if he didn’t want him to call. It just didn’t make any sense to him – it still doesn’t, but what if it was true? What if Victor had _wanted_ him to text and had been disappointed he hadn’t? What if he thought Yuuri had been _rejecting_ him? What if he feels rejected even now?

“Yuuri? Which cake did you like best? Do you want to try them all again?”

“No”.

“Okay, then which one is it? Is it the pecan one? You sounded like you really liked it,” Victor grins at him, but it does nothing to alleviate the thoughts running wildly through Yuuri’s head. He doesn’t want to let himself hope, he doesn’t want to offer his heart for the breaking, but what if? _What if?_

So, he confesses. He figures if his heart is to be broken, his hopes crushed, he wants Victor to be the one to do it, as graciously, as bluntly as he does everything else.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” the words feel huge in the quiet room, and Victor’s eyes go wide, his mouth slightly agape. “Text you, I mean. I thought you gave me your number out of pity because I _cried_ in front of you, because why else would someone like you spend time with _me_?” It comes out whispery and watery, head down and hands limp at his sides. “It’s not because I didn’t want to,” he says then, earnestly. “I did. I – I do. I really, really do. How could I not? You love dogs, and my mother’s cooking, and you like awful European music, and I…”

Yuuri’s voice breaks. Then, a warm hand comes up to cup his face, gently.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor says, softly, as he tilts Yuuri’s face up so that their eyes can meet. Victor is looking at him in wonder, blue eyes glazed searching his own. “Of course I meant it”.

“But – why?” Yuuri asks, and he knows it’s pathetic, but he needs to understand to maybe, possibly believe it too.

“Because you surprised me,” Victor says, with a small, fond smile, his hand still cradling Yuuri’s cheek. “You’re so genuine, and unpredictable. You’re wonderful, Yuuri. Please believe me when I say I mean all of this, just like I meant it when I told you I would love it if you walked Makkachin with me”.

Yuuri blushes, tears prickling his eyes and heart in his throat.

“I – okay,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Victor repeats, smile growing bigger and brighter. “Would you like to walk Makkachin with me after we pick a cake, then?” he asks, stroking Yuuri’s cheek with his thumb once before slowly lowering his hand. Yuuri mourns its loss immediately, and then he nods, smile mirroring Victor.

“I would. I would really like to,” he says, words coming out easier now. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t text you, I –“

“It’s okay,” Victor reassures him with a smile. “I can come off a bit strong,” he adds with a wink, and Yuuri chuckles because, well, isn’t that the truth.

“You were right, by the way,” he tells him then, and Victor gives him a curious look. “About the cake, I mean. Pecan was _definitely_ my favorite, but… but I think Yuuko would prefer the strawberry one, so we should go for that one”.

Victor claps his hands, suddenly back into wedding planner mode. “Wonderful! I’m sure Yuuko will love it! Let’s go inform Madame Mercier then, so we can go pick Makkachin up at the dog sitter’s, da?”

Yuuri nods, already looking forwards to spending the rest of the afternoon with the adorable poodle (and with its owner).

“You wiggle your shoulders when you’re excited about something,” Victor points out then. Yuuri stops immediately, suddenly aware of the unconscious movement, but Victor just smiles at him, an amused look on his face. “It’s cute,” he tells him.

“You too,” Yuuri blurts out. It’s an extremely silly thing to say, and he immediately covers his face with his hands in embarrassment. He hears Victor’s warm laugh somewhere close to him, and it makes his chest warm and butterflies fly in his stomach.

He just can’t believe it, any of it, but Victor asked him to try, so he will. Of course he will.

As they leave the shop, Victor’s hand finds its way to the small of Yuuri’s back to guide him out of the door, and Yuuri lets himself be led.

\---

_[20.21] Yuuri_

_Thank you for what you did today  
I hope you will like the cake I picked for you_

_[21.01] Yuuko_

_:)_ _I’m sure I will!  
_ _Phichit just texted me you look radiant_  
_You better not distract my wedding planner too much!!! ;)_  
_(jk distract him as much as you want)_

_[21.12] Yuuri_

_I hate both of you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I actually hid in a closet for half an hour once after sending a text to my crush.
> 
> Also, let me know in the comments what do you think the French lady told Victor to make him blush! 
> 
> I really hope you liked this chapter, hopefully the next one will be out in the next couple of weeks! And if you would like to come say hi on tumblr, my url is byebyeholocene :) ♥
> 
> PS. this is unbetad, so feel free to point out any mistakes!


	5. just a little bit of your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Yuuri invites Victor over for dinner at his place, and Victor finally meets Phichit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter, so I really hope you will like it :) !
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left a kudos\comment, it means the world!

_Sara ♥ [11.16]_

_Guys!!! I can’t even right now_  
_I just went to Madame Mercier’s to discuss the cake for the London Wedding_  
_GUESS WHAT SHE JUST TOLD ME_

_Georgi [11.17]_

_I love Madame M, she has such class!_

_Mila [11.18]_

_Omg what did she tell you!!!_

_Yura [11.19]_

_Stop blowing up my phone_  
_you old idiots_  
  
_Sara ♥ [11.19]_

 _she told me – and I quote_  
_‘It’s so nice that Victor has finally found love’_

_Mila [11.20]_

_OMGGGG!!!! WHAT???_  
_omg omg omg omg_

_Sara ♥ [11.21]_

_YES so then I was like ‘????’_  
_and she told me Victor showed up at the patisserie last Sunday_  
_WITH A CUTE JAPANESE BOY_  
_AND THAT WHEN SHE ASKED VICTOR IF THAT WAS HIS BF_  
_VICTOR TOLD HER ‘NOT YET BUT I HOPE HE WILL BE’_  
_GUYS I’M DYING VICTOR IS IN LOVE_

_Mila [11.21]_

_!!!!!!!! I’m so!!!!! Happy for Vitya????!!!_  
_I can’t believe he said that!!!_  
_You go Yuuri-Best-Man-Of-Honor!_

_Georgi [11.22]_

_There’s no love like the first_

_Yura [11.22]_

_gross_

_Lilya Baranovskaya [11.23]_

_It was about time._

_\---_

It’s Wednesday evening, and Victor comes home with a huge grin on his face. Yuuri had finally taken him up on the offer of walking Makkachin together – and he had even texted him first to do so.  
As soon as Victor had finished his last meeting of the day he had bolted to the elevator and out of the door just to fin Yuuri already playing with Makkachin while chatting with Emil. Then, he and Yuuri had walked together in Central Park: Victor had asked him more about his dancing and his family, and this time Yuuri had been less and less shy, surprising Victor at the end of the walk with an invite for dinner at his place Friday night.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re already busy and probably have better things to do, and my apartment is really small and Phichit can be a lot, but, uhm, I just wanted to do something nice for you in return,” Yuuri had told him, wide eyed and blushing, and Victor had pulled him into a tight hug then, and of course he had accepted the invitation.

He’s replaying the scene in his head again while he opens the door to his apartment – Yuuri had buried his face in Victor’s neck, and he smelled so nice and clean – and he’s so distracted that finding someone already inside almost makes him scream.

“Yura! Do you want to cause my early death? I’m an old man, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I was starving, so I ordered Chinese. I couldn’t finish it so you can have the leftovers, I guess.”

Victor hides a smile when he sees the food, because Yuri had definitely ordered for two people, and he just sits next to the teenager on the couch. Yuri is playing some videogame on Victor’s television – and since when does he have an x-box? Yuri must have brought him there at some point. He had started crashing at Victor’s apartment last year, and at some point Victor had decided it was just easier giving him the keys rather than finding him waiting at some ungodly hour on his doorstep. Yuri never announces himself, still trying to make it look as if he doesn’t like Victor, but the amount of time he spends at the apartment says differently. Despite the teenager’s abrasive personality, Victor is always happy when Yuri wants to spend time with him: for the longest time, his mother and Yakov had been the only family he had, and when he’d been younger he had begged his mother for a little brother to play with. It had taken a long time, but the little brother had finally materialized in the shape of an angry fifteen-year-old moving his x-box into Victor’s home. Victor loved it.

“So? How did it go with best-man-of-honor? And before you start, I do _not_ want to know any gross details, or I will puke and be scarred for life.”

Victor rolls his eyes, but his fake annoyance lasts only a second before it’s overtaken by enthusiasm.

“Oh, Yura, it went so well! He’s so amazing, and his eyes are so pretty, and he has the cutest laugh but he has this sarcasm, too, and –“

“Stop it, stop it, that’s absolutely disgusting!” Yuri interrupts him, covering his ears to make his point. “Wow, I used to think you were annoying when you were all emo and shit but this is so, so much worse.”

Victor would believe him more if Yuri’s face didn’t betray a hint of a smile beneath all the reproach.

“Are you even _dating_ yet?”

“Well I’m not sure,” Victor admits. “But he wants to have dinner with me on Friday, at his apartment. His roommate will be there as well, though, so I’m not sure whether it’s a date.”

“Of course it’s not a date if his _roommate_ is gonna be there!” Yuri yells at him, exasperated. “Have you ever even dated someone before? And no, one night stands don’t count.”

Victor actually feels a little embarrassed. “Well, yes, but I never really cared this much,” he confesses.

“Then you have to actually _ask him_ to date you, you dumbass.”

There’s a moment of silence, Victor deciding whether or not asking advice from his teenage step-brother about his love life is a good idea - and then he does ask.

“What if I ruin it? You’re right, Yura, I’ve never really been in love with anyone before, and… well, you know me. I just don’t want to mess this up,” he says, quietly.

“Bullshit.”

“Yura!”

“It’s bullshit, Vitya. I think what you’re really scared of is letting yourself be seen. And I don’t mean your stupid face being everywhere, I mean you’re afraid that if you show this Yuuri guy who you really are he’s gonna reject you. You think that you have to be perfect for him but you _don’t,_ that’s not how things work _._ Besides, if the way he looked at you on your first meeting is any indication, I’m pretty sure he’s enough of an idiot to like you no matter what. So you should be honest with him. You like him, so tell him. Stop being a coward, or I’ll tell your mom.”

Once he finishes his speech, Victor still trying to come to terms with the fact that a fifteen-year-old is smarter than him, Yuri goes back to his videogame, points of his ears red.

“Do you think I should bring him flowers when I go for dinner?”

“I don’t fucking know! I’m _fifteen_! Why don’t you find a friend your age?”

Victor supposes he’s right.

The next morning, while he’s doing location-hunting with Jean Jacques and Isabella, he gets a text from Yuri.

_[10.35] Yuri_

_Bring flowers and a dessert.  
And do NOT show up in a suit, Vitya, I swear to God._

_\---_

Victor buys flowers and a chocolate cake, and he does not wear a suit.

Despite having been to some of the most important events in the world, he finds he’s actually really nervous to meet Yuuri’s roommate, and also just to be in Yuuri’s apartment. What if Yuuri finds him out of place in such a different environment from his usual one? What if Yuuri’s roommate doesn’t like him?

“Victor, _mon cher,_ why wouldn’t he like you? You’re a very likeable person,” Chris tells him over the phone.

“I don’t know, it’s just I never hang out with anyone – apart from you and Yura, that is. What if I’m awful at this having dinner together thing? What if they don’t like the chocolate I bought, or – “

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous, Vic. You’re the most charming person I know, myself excluded, and Yuuri invited you, so stop worrying about it! Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.”

“Be myself, huh. Haven’t done that in a while,” Victor comments bitterly.

“You’re right, you haven’t, and you deserve to. I hated seeing you so sad lately, and so did everyone else who cares about you. But since you’ve met Yuuri you seem happier – actually, you the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time, and as your best friend I can only approve of that. The dinner will be fine, I promise. And if it won’t be, you come straight to mine and we’ll eat chocolate and drink wine until you feel better.”

“Thank you, Chris. I’m lucky to have you – I don’t think I say it enough.”

“You _definitely_ don’t say it enough, especially considering the amount of dramatic texting I have to deal with! Now go, you don’t want to be late, do you? And tell me everything!”

“I will. Bye, Chris!”

Victor hangs up and realizes that his taxi has stopped in front of a red-brick building. He takes a big breath, grabs the flowers and the chocolate, pays the taxi driver and gets out of the car, making his way towards the entry of the condo.

Yuuri and Phichit, his roommate, live on the eighth floor, apartment 32. Victor knocks on the door and waits, heart in his throat and a weird mix of anticipation and dread in his stomach. The door opens, but it’s not Yuuri welcoming him. Phichit is much shorter than Victor, skin tanned and lively dark eyes. The enthusiastic smile he directs at Victor makes him wonder why he was ever nervous in the first place, because Phichit seems like an incredibly friendly person already.

“Before we introduce ourselves, I just want to tell you that I think you’re a genius and that you giving Kim Kardashian a dirty look is my aesthetic and also one of my favorite reaction gifs of all time. Of all time, Victor.”

Victor bursts into laughter, his nervousness completely dissipating, and he raises his hand to shake Phichit’s when he realizes he’s still holding flowers _and_ chocolate. As soon as Phichit spots the gifts, he breaks into a huge grin.

“Why don’t you give those to Yuuri yourself? He’s in the kitchen, I’ll show you the way! Oh, sorry, you can take off your coat first, here. By the way, that episode of _Say Yes to the Dress_ where that girl was late and you got pissed at her? _Amazing.”_

Phichit really is an incredibly friendly person, Victor thinks with relief as he takes off his heavy coat – November was getting colder and colder – and he seems to like Victor, or at least his public persona. It’s a start, a good one at that, and Victor immediately feels more at ease.

The apartment is quite small, but really homey and clean, with a lot of books and DVDs on the shelves in the living room and some random posters of bands and movies on the walls. Victor likes it immediately, mostly because he can picture Yuuri being happy living here, and he can’t help but wonder what the dancer would think of Victor’s own apartment, so big and cold and impersonal. He would probably hate it.

“That’s the door to the kitchen. You can go and say hi to Yuuri while I finish setting the table, I’m sure he will be _delighted_  to see you,” Phichit tells him then, pointing to his left with a wink. Victor smiles at him and thanks him and then he makes his way to the kitchen, flowers and chocolates in his hands.

The sights that welcomes him when he opens the door is enough to steal his breath and make his chest ache with longing and affection. Yuuri is wearing an apron, face scrunched up in concentration, tongue between his teeth as he stirs a pan with one hand and reads from a recipe book with the other. He looks beautiful in the domestic setting, and Victor never knew falling in love would make his heart beat with painful adoration, but here he is.  
He’s about to say something to make himself known, but Yuuri turns to put the book down and sees him, and then a bright, sweet smile blossoms on his face leaving Victor at a loss for words as he feels himself blush helplessly.

“Victor! I didn’t hear you arrive,” Yuuri tells him, placing the wooden spoon on the counter and walking towards him, and Victor is fifteen again.

“Phichit let me in,” he replies, stunned with how in love he feels.

“Did he show you around? Not that there’s much to see, our flat is very small.” Yuuri looks a little embarrassed as he says it, fidgeting, but then he adds, “I’m so glad you came”- and Victor really, _really_ wants to kiss those soft looking lips right now, wants to be closer than ever. For a moment, his mind wanders to a future where Yuuri welcomes him home every evening with that same smile and those big, warm eyes, and he aches with how much he wants it.

“I’m glad too, Yuuri. And your apartment is lovely, it… it reminds me of you.”

Yuuri smiles again, blushing a little, and when he notices the flowers and the chocolate his eyes become huge. Victor offers him the flowers with a nervous smile.

“They’re for you. I hope you like them, Yuuri,” he tells him.

Yuuri takes them with reverence and smells them, smiling softly.

“They’re beautiful, Victor, thank you,” he says, and Victor notices how Yuuri has started to look at him more instead of averting his gaze. The timer on the counter dings, making Yuuri jump and run to the stove to stir some more.

“It smells amazing, Yuuri. I had no idea you were a good cook, too!”

“Oh, I’m not, I can just do some basic things, nothing fan-“

“Lies!” Phichit exclaims as he enters the kitchen. “Complete lies! Yuuri is an amazing cook, and if it wasn’t for him I would have long ago died of a pot-noodles intoxication.”

Victor laughs. “I’m a terrible cook myself. Normally I just order takeout to avoid setting the kitchen on fire again. I only get to eat home-cooked food when I visit my mom.”

“Well, then you should come here more often! I’m sure Yuuri would be _more than happy_ to cook for you, and you could pay us back by spilling all the behind the scenes secrets of _Say Yes to the Dress_ and _Project Runway_ to us,” Phichit says, grinning.

“Phichit!” Yuuri exclaims then, ears red while he turns off the stove and starts preparing the servings.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t be more than happy to cook for Victor?” Phichit asks, maliciously, before Yuuri silences him with a glare and the two start a silent conversation. Victor doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but Phichit’s teasing is exactly what Chris would do if roles were reversed – that is, if he knew his friend had a crush and wanted to help the situation move forward. He dares to hope, if only a little bit.

Dinner is served. Victor already wanted to marry Yuuri, but after tasting his delicious, traditional Japanese meal he is pretty much ready to elope in Vegas right away – and wouldn’t that be ironic, the most famous wedding planner in the world eloping in a tiny chapel like some regular Britney Spears. It’s not just the food that’s great though: Victor can’t remember having this much fun in a long time, and he had almost completely forgotten the feeling of his stomach hurting from too much laughing, his face almost sore from too much smiling. As soon as Phichit tells him about his and Yuuri’s _Say Yes to the Dress_ marathons, Victor is more than happy to share fun facts about the show, and in return Phichit tells him about the adventures he and Yuuri had in college.  
With Phichit around, Yuuri is much more at ease than usual, and it’s heartwarming to see him laugh so much and make sassy comebacks: it’s a new side of Yuuri that Victor hopes he will get to see more of in the future, because it would mean that Yuuri feels completely comfortable around him as well. Every now and then, he and Yuuri lock eyes, and Yuuri gives him this small, happy smile that makes Victor melt every single time.

Victor feels content, pervaded by a simple, pure happiness. It’s strange, realizing how numb he had become and how alive he feels now, how much more vivid everything seems, how a home-cooked meal in a small apartment can be worth so much more than a standing ovation at New York Fashion week, more than the adoration of millions of people. He wants to hold on to this feeling, hold on to _Yuuri_ , because it’s Yuuri that’s waking up his frozen soul with the colorful winds of a warm spring. Victor is a bit scared, too: scared of losing all of this, of going back to the loneliness and the emptiness he was feeling up to just a few weeks ago.

“Well, I’m really, _really_ tired,” Phichit announces with an exaggerated yawn, shaking Victor from his thoughts. “Yuuri, I’m sorry I can’t help with the dishes, but I’m sure Victor won’t mind, will you?” Victor knows it’s a lie right away, and as much as he likes Phichit already he’s happy that he gets to spend some time alone with Yuuri.

“Not at all,” he says, ignoring Yuuri’s protests.

“Goodnight, then! Victor, come back soon, I still have so many questions about so many things!”

“I will,” Victor promises with a smile. “I might even steal a gadget from set, if Yuuri promises to make Udon again,” he adds, winking at Yuuri, who inevitably blushes at the compliment.

After Phichit shuts himself in his room, Victor follows Yuuri to the kitchen, carrying as many plates with him as he can. If Yura could see him now he wouldn’t believe his own eyes.  
He and Yuuri stand next to each other at the sink, Yuuri washing the plates and Victor drying them. It’s an easy silence, one that Victor doesn’t feel compelled to break just because he has to.

“You know,” Yuuri says then, voice barely over a whisper as he passes him another plate dripping with water. “I was a bit worried about tonight.”

Victor doesn’t say anything, leaving him time to elaborate: by now he knows that Yuuri opening up is not a common occasion, and he doesn’t want to force him. Yuuri continues: “I kept thinking about all the fancy dinners you must have been to, all those incredible people you must have met, and… I guess I was scared you would find it boring – that you would find _us_ boring,” he confesses, and he glances up at Victor, doe-eyed.

“You’re right,” Victor starts, and he sees a flash of hurt and disappointment in Yuuri’s face. He puts down the plate and turns towards Yuuri, one hand going up to cradle Yuuri’s long, elegant neck. “I _have_ been to a lot of fancy dinners, and I _have_ met a lot of fancy people.”

Yuuri lowers his eyes, but Victor gently nudges his chin up with his thumb, and Yuuri stares at him openly, waiting. Victor feels his heart beating against his chest, and he desperately wishes he could find the right words to tell Yuuri that he likes him, to convey what tonight meant to him, to let Yuuri know that _he_ is the one that matters to him, the one who brought color back into his life. 

“None of it made me as happy as tonight. None of those people can compare to you. Yuuri, I…” he trails off, because Yuuri is so close now, eyes huge and lips rosy, it would be so easy to just lean down and tell him everything he can’t put into words through a kiss. But what if it’s too soon, what if he ends up scaring Yuuri away?

“You have freckles on your nose,” Yuuri whispers, and it’s so unexpected that Victor, still dazed by their closeness, is left blinking for a couple seconds, mouth open.

Yuuri immediately turns bright red and covers his face with his hands, babbling unintelligible things. Victor laughs then, gently clutching Yuuri’s wrists and lowering his hands so that he can see his face again.

“Yuuri, you’re so cute,” he tells him with a smile. Yuuri, if possible, gets even more flustered and hurries back to the dishes. Victor resumes his role as dish-drier, and the two start chatting, and continue to talk well after they have finished cleaning and drying everything, sitting together on the couch. It’s only when Victor yawns that they realize how late it is.

“I’m so sorry for holding you!” Yuuri tells him, as he opens the front door while Victor puts on his coat. “I didn’t know it was so late, or I would have – “

“Don’t worry, Солнышко, it wasn’t your fault.”

He catches himself too late, when the word is already hanging in the space between them where it slipped of its own accord. It did so easily, probably because Victor has been calling Yuuri like that in his head since about around the day they met.

There's a good chance that Yuuri has no idea what the word mean, or that it's used as a pet name, but Victor is pretty sure that the adoration in his voice gave it all away anyway. He opens his mouth to - he doesn't know, apologize, maybe, or explain himself, or even better change the subject and pretend it never happened.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, but he's stopped by Yuuri's pinky wrapping gently around his and stealing all his breath in the process, sending his heart into overdrive.

"It's okay," Yuuri tells him, murmuring, and his ears are red, and so are his neck and nose and cheeks and, God, he’s so beautiful. "I- I like it. You can call me that, if you want to.”

And oh, if only Yuuri knew what he does to Victor, how far gone he is.  
  
“Well, then.” Victor leans down, slowly, and presses his lips to Yuuri’s forehead. “Goodnight, Солнышко,” he whispers, breathing in Yuuri’s scent and feeling him shiver. He lingers for one more second before finally taking a step back and out of the apartment.

“Goodnight, Victor.”

\---

_00.15 [Unknown Number]_

_Hey Victor, this is Phichit! :)_  
_I just thought you might want to know it’s Yuuri’s birthday next Friday_  
_but PLS DON’T DO ANYTHING GRAND OR HE’LL RUN AWAY_  
_NO FLASH MOBS. NO SKY WRITING. NO LIVE ON TV BDAY WISHES._

_00.18 [Victor]_

_Hi Phichit!_  
_Thanks for letting me know, I really appreciate it_

 _00.19 [Phichit]_  
_no problem_  
_you seem like you really like him_  
_I’m really happy you do, he deserves all of it and more_  
_but pls be careful, okay?_

_00.21 [Victor]_

_I will be, I promise_  
_I really want to do this right_

_00.23 [Phichit]_

_I believe you! You have my blessing :) not that u needed it but_  
_one last thing_  
_when Yuuri gets scared, he pushes people away_  
_don’t let him_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two so, so much.
> 
> I really hope you liked this chapter (please leave a comment if you did!) & the next one should be out in the next couple of weeks max! Come say hi on tumblr, my url is byebyeholocene :) ♥
> 
> PS. this is unbetad, so feel free to point out any mistakes!


	6. heartbeats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri spends the evening before his birthday at Victor's apartment, where more than one surprise awaits him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while but I made it! I hope you will like this chapter, and thank you so much to everyone who read and left a comment or kudos, it means the world! ♥

If someone had told Yuuri that on the vigil of his twenty-fourth birthday he would have found himself knocking on the front door of Victor Nikiforov’s apartment, he would have definitely not believed them.

But he is.

The day after Victor had come over to his place, he had texted Yuuri to return the invitation, and Yuuri had accepted with trepidation.   
It’s strange, how familiar Victor’s presence in his life is becoming. Just barely a month ago, Victor was unreachable and impalpable, like a nice dream after you wake up from it. Now, though, Yuuri finds that he knows the exact sound Victor makes when he laughs quietly, the way his name sounds coming out of Victor’s mouth. Now he has felt the rhythm of Victor’s heart when they hug, and he can tell the difference between a fake smile and a real one. Now, Victor is undeniably real. He still makes Yuuri flustered – and has a lot of fun doing it, too – but it’s not uncomfortable anymore, and there’s a fondness, an intimacy in feeling himself blush because of something Victor said.   
  
Yuuri finds himself unable to sleep at night because he is too happy and too terrified at the same time. The touch of Victor’s fingers on his face haunts him in his dreams and when he’s awake, and Yuuri has never _wanted_ anyone like this before, but his heart has chosen Victor.   
  
Sometimes, Yuuri thinks Victor might have chosen him in return. When Victor smiles at him brightly and without hiding, when he looks at him with longing. When he holds him like Yuuri is something precious to him. But it feels too good to be true, and Yuuri would never be foolish enough to ignore how plain he is in comparison to Victor, how Victor will inevitably be get tired of him soon.

“Are you going to knock or not?”

Yuuri jumps, startled, as he turns to face someone who he recognizes as Yuri Plisetsky, Victor’s teenage step brother. Victor has told him a lot of funny stories about Yuri, but the two have never interacted or even been introduced.

“I- uh, I was going to,” he says, lamely.

Despite being fifteen, there’s something intimidating about Yuri, and Yuuri is a little surprised to find him here, as Victor hadn’t told him anything about it. He’s happy he can finally meet him though, because it’s obvious that he’s someone that Victor really cares about.

“Move, I’ll open,” Yuri tells him, stepping in front of him and taking out a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket. Yuuri notices the keys have a tiger-shaped charm attached to them, and it makes his smile a bit. The teenager opens the door quickly, and announces himself – and Yuuri – with angry yelling. Angry yelling in Russian.

Victor emerges from the kitchen wearing a black apron and a confused expression on his handsome face. His usually perfectly styled hair looks a little disheveled, and he has flour all over his hands and, somehow, forearms. He starts saying something in Russian to Yuri  - his voice sounding even smoother in the Slavic language – but stops immediately when he notices Yuuri.

“Yuuri! How – when did you get here?”

“I saw him outside the building and showed him the way”.

Yuuri is grateful for the lie, especially because he expected Yuri to tell Victor he was standing in front of the door like an idiot, too scared to ring the doorbell.

“He did,” he adds, unnecessarily. Victor smiles at them indulgently, before remembering his confusion from a few seconds before. “Yura, I… thought you were supposed to be home?”he tells his step-brother. So Yuri was an unexpected guests for Victor as well, Yuuri thinks.

“I was going home when your mom told me _you_ were cooking for Best-Man-Of-Honor.” The teenager turns towards Yuuri, directing the next words at him. “You owe me a _big_ favor, Victor can’t cook for shit. I came here to save you from food poisoning so I don’t have to hear him whine about how he ruined your date or whatever with his inexistent cooking skills.”

“Yura, I’m perfectly capable of – “

“Shut up, Vitya! I’m going to the kitchen now and you’re banned, understand?”

He adds something in Russian, and it’s enough to make Victor stop protesting.  Yuuri is too busy to try and not have a heart attack at the word ‘date’ to do anything but watch as his namesake storms into the kitchen and shuts the door closed.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Victor says then, still looking a bit perplexed. He smiles, and Yuuri feels himself do the same. “I’m happy you got to meet Yura, though. Let me go wash my hands so I can give you a proper welcome and show you around!”

Victor darts to what Yuuri assumes is the bathroom and comes back with clean hands and without the apron. Needless to say, he’s as beautiful as ever. He stops right in front of Yuuri, a little too close than necessary, and he smells so _good,_ a scent Yuuri by now recognizes.

“Hi,” he says, softly, brushing Yuuri’s hand with his, and Yuuri suddenly feels warm all over.

“H-hi,” he manages, like staring up at Victor’s killer face isn’t physically painful.

“Would you like a tour of the flat?” Victor asks him, smiling brightly.

Yuuri nods, and Victor falls into motion quickly, clearly excited that he gets to show Yuuri his home. The flat is pretty spacious – obviously – and expensive looking, with modern furniture and a minimalistic style. It looks like it came out of an internal design magazine, and Yuuri doesn’t fail to notice that, save for a few personal pictures, it almost feels as if Victor doesn’t _actually_ live here. It’s probably just a thing rich people do, Yuuri reasons, but it makes him appreciate his own, smaller flat a lot more.

After showing him the bedroom, where Makkachin is sleeping soundly, completely undisturbed by the intrusion, and the small balcony with a fantastic view of the Big Apple, Victor leads him into the kitchen.

As soon as they open the door, they are greeted by an angry Yuri Plisetsky, who is currently taking something out of the oven while he simultaneously checks on the pans and pots. It’s quite an impressive thing for a fifteen-year-old, and Yuuri can’t help but smile a little at him, admired.

“What are you laughing at?” Yuri snaps at him when he notices.

“I’m not laughing,” Yuuri replies, surprising himself with how calm he sounds. “I was just thinking that you seem like a really talented cook,” he explains, kindly.

“Well I am!” Yuri replies, angrily, but he has gone a little red in the face.

“Aw, Yura, are you blushing?” Victor teases him immediately. Yuri throws a wooden spoon at him, which Victor avoids narrowly.

“Get _out_ of this kitchen, Vitya, or I swear I’ll tell everyone on the secret chat that you tried to microwave eggs!”

Yuuri snorts at that, unable to help himself at the image of Victor Nikiforov trying to cook eggs in the microwave while completely covered in flour.

“It said on Buzzfeed that – “

“BUZZFEED IS NOT A COOKING WEBSITE, YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!” Yuri sounds so offended by the explanation that it makes Yuuri laugh even harder as Victor retreats from the kitchen waving his hands in a show of capitulation.

Yuuri follows him to the living room. “Victor, what were you trying to cook?” he asks, amused.

“Well, I thought I’d make Russian food,” Victor says, cheerfully.  “You know, because you made Japanese food and it was so nice, so I wanted to reciprocate the gesture. I asked my mom to send me the recipes, but they were so complicated and I didn’t have time to actually follow them properly, so I… improvised a little,” Victor concludes, tone casual. He looks pretty unfazed despite his obvious failure, and Yuuri is jealous of his charming, optimistic determination. He wishes he could be a little more like him, but he has always been extremely anxious and his own harshest critic.

“It was a nice thought,” he tells him, and Victor beams up at him.

“Next time we’ll order takeout.”

 _Next time._ Victor thinks there will be a next time. Victor _wants_ there to be a next time.

Before Yuuri can dwell on what this means too much, Makkachin runs into the living room, definitely awake now, and as soon as she spots him she wiggles her tail excitedly. Yuuri immediately sits on the couch to pet her, and he almost forgets about Victor altogether with how intent he is on cuddling the dog.

“Makka, you traitor,” Victor says, but his words have no bite to them, and when Yuuri lifts his gaze he finds Victor looking at them fondly.

“Makkachin is coming home with me tonight,” Yuuri announces. “Aren’t you, Makka?” he coos, and the dog woofs happily.

“I can’t believe this,” Victor sighs, dramatically. “Betrayed by my own blood! Tu quoque, Makkachin!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Yuuri tells him, smiling indulgently while Makkachin rolls on the carpet in front of him.

“Yuuri! You _wound_ me.” Victor places a hand on his heart, trying and failing to look upset.

“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard. I’m leaving right now.” Yuri emerges from the kitchen, looking suitably disgusted and putting up his sweater’s leopard-printed hood.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” Victor asks him.

“Hell, no. By the way, the food is ready. You guys can eat or whatever, as long as I don’t have to witness it,” Yuri snarls, opening the front door and slamming it behind him a second later.

“Yuuri,” Victor says, serious. “I think he actually likes you.”

Yuuri’s not sure whether it’s meant as a joke or not, so he just smiles hesitantly. Victor makes him sit at the small table he has set in the spacious living room, and then he goes to the kitchen to get the food. It looks and smells incredible as it’s set in front of Yuuri.

“I can’t believe Yura actually cooked this. My mom told me he liked helping in the kitchen but I had no idea he could do _this,”_ Victor comments, and he actually looks impressed.

“It’s amazing,” Yuuri agrees, his mouth watering.

Victor tells him the name of each dish and explains what it is, and then they start eating: it’s absolutely delicious. The conversation comes easily this time, and Yuuri is surprised once more by how easy Victor is to talk to. He seems to never run out of arguments and is charming in his storytelling, but he’s also a good listener, and Yuuri finds himself talking way more than he’s used to.

“…and that’s how I started training with Minako-sensei.”

“You mean that your sister actually put you in a _tutu_?”

“She did. She meant it as a joke, but well… it turned out I was much better than her at it, even at five-years-old. At least, Minako-sensei thought so, because she told my mom she would keep me. Mari was really happy because she hated doing ballet, and she just went on to baseball instead.”

Victor laughs heartily, their meal long finished in front of them.

“Ah, Yuuri, you must have been so cute in a tutu!”

Yuuri manages to only blush a little bit as he says, “I may or may not have a picture of it.”

Victor’s eyes light up. “You have to show me, next time we go to your parents’,” he says, and he seems to only realize what it sounded like half a second too late. “I mean… That’s only if – you know?” he says, looking embarrassed.

Yuuri feels a big smile tug on his lips. “My mom will kill me if I don’t invite you over for katsudon,” he tells him, and he sees Victor’s tension melt right away.

“Right,” Victor says, brushing his silver bangs out of his forehead and gaining back his composure. “I can’t wait to try it,” he adds then, and the charming smirk on his perfect face is enough to make Yuuri feel hot all over and render him incapable of saying anything else.

Victor doesn’t seem to mind though. He stands up and takes their plates to the kitchen, gesturing for Yuuri to go sit on the couch while he gets them dessert. It takes Victor an unusual amount of time, and Yuuri distinctly hears noises of commotion coming from the kitchen. He’s about to go check on his guest, when all the lights in the flat go off and his vision suddenly goes black.

“…Victor?” he calls,  a little concerned, while his eyes adjust to the darkness, the only source of light being the New York buildings outside the big windows.

A small, flickering lights appears then, illuminating Victor’s face softly as he walks towards Yuuri holding what is undeniably a small chocolate birthday cake and singing a quiet, out-of-tune version of ‘happy birthday to you’.

Yuuri stares in disbelief while Victor finishes the song and places the cake right in front of him on the coffee table, his heart swollen from emotion and his eyes rapidly filling with tears as he bites his trembling lip to try and hold it together.

“Make a wish,” Victor whispers then, so close, looking at him with such fondness that Yuuri aches with how _loved_ he feels.

Yuuri closes his eyes, sending couple of tears rolling down his cheeks, and he wishes he could hold on to Victor’s affection _just_ a little bit longer. He knows it’s greedy, and he knows it’s wishful thinking – but that’s what wishes are for, after all.

He blows out the candle, and he feels Victor’s hand come up to cup his cheek in what has become a familiar gesture. That more than anything makes his heart beat fast and strong in his chest, blood rushing to his face as he slowly opens his eyes.

“Happy Birthday, Yuuri,” Victor murmurs then, and they’re so close, and Victor is still holding Yuuri’s face gently and looking at him like Yuuri is something precious, something to treasure, something he _wants,_ his thumb slowly drawing a pattern on Yuuri’s cheek.   
Yuuri can’t help it when his eyes trail down Victor’s face, stopping on those beautiful, bowed lips.  He feels Victor’s breath hitch a little, and he can’t hold back any longer, shyly tipping his head forward and closing the distance between them.

Victor lets out a soft whimper. Both of his hands slide through Yuuri’s hair, angling his head gently as Victor kisses him slowly and achingly sweet. It’s dizzying, and the feeling of Victor’s mouth brushing over his, gently but with intensity, has Yuuri’s heart pounding so fast that he can hear it in his ears. Victor tugs a little at his hair, urging him closer, kissing him breathless as Yuuri opens his mouth to him.

The first slide of Victor’s tongue against his make Yuuri feel weak in the knees , and when Victor captures Yuuri’s lower lip between his teeth and tugs gently, Yuuri can’t stop the small moan coming out of his lips.

Victor places one, two, three tender kisses on his mouth before leaning back a little, hands dropping down to gently rest on Yuuri’s neck and his face still so close. His lips are bitten-red, his blue eyes dazed under long fluttering lashes, and his flushed face is making his freckles more visible than usual. He’s never been more beautiful.

Yuuri brings a hand up to touch his own lips, still tingling from the attention – just to make sure it really happened and he’s not dreaming.

Victor smiles at him.

“Yuuuuri, is that what you had wished for?” he asks, voice sultry as he grins.

Yuuri covers his face with his hands out of reflex, but he’s smiling as well, still feeling more than a little dizzy. Victor laughs, an intimate, soft sound, as he gently tugs Yuuri’s hands down.

“Hi,” he says, before placing a small kiss on the tip of Yuuri’s nose.  

“Hi,” Yuuri replies, enchanted.

They’re still in the semi-dark, but neither of them seems to notice.

“I have a present for you!” Victor says then, breaking the spell as he gets up and darts to his room, coming back with a small  box in his hands and turning the lights back on in the process. Yuuri notices only then that the cake on the coffee table is from the French patisserie he and Victor had been to together, and his heart, that had just started to go back to a normal rhythm, accelerates again with a wave of affection.

Victor sits back next to him on the couch in one swift move, placing a neatly-wrapped box in his hands and looking nervous all of a sudden.

“Phichit told me it was your birthday a week ago, so I didn’t really have much time to find the perfect present, but… well, I hope you like it.”

Yuuri tears the wrap with slightly shaking hands, revealing a black box.

“Open it,” Victor encourages him when he hesitates a little too long.

Yuuri takes the lid off the box and for a long moment it just looks empty. Then, he sees something at the bottom.

“Victor…” he starts, but his voice breaks and this time he actually start _sobbing_ because this evening has been perfect, and then Victor kissed him and now he’s holding two tickets to go see _The Nutcraker_ in December, performed by the Bolshoi Ballet. He sees Victor’s hopeful expression crumble in front of his eyes, probably because he mistook his ugly crying for _sad_ crying.

“Yuuri, I- I’m sorry, this must have been really insensitive with your injury, I didn’t – “

Yuuri throws his arms around Victor’s shoulders, cutting him off as he buries his face in his neck. Victor smells so _good_ that if Yuuri wasn’t still sobbing he would kiss him again right then and there.

“It’s perfect,” he manages to say, finally, as Victor’s arms come up to encircle him and hold him closer. “I’m crying because I’m s-so happy.”

He feels Victor’s sigh of relief against his cheek. “I’m happy too, Yuuri,” Victor tells him, hands caressing his back in a soothing gesture as Yuuri’s crying subsides. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, and if I don’t do it now Yura will kill me.”

Yuuri sits back to look at Victor, sniffing a little bit and drying his tears with the sleeve of his jumper as he waits for him to say something.

Victor takes a big breath, his exhale shaky, and then takes Yuuri’s hands in his. Yuuri glances down at their entwined fingers, enraptured, before his eyes settle back on Victor’s face. Victor looks nervous and hopeful, and he swallows visibly before he starts. Yuuri starts to wonder if he should feel nervous too, feeling a pang of anxiety.

“Victor?”

“I really like you,” Victor blurts out, and Yuuri can only  stare at him open-mouthed as he continues. “I really, _really_ like you, Yuuri. I know I’m terrible at this, and I’ve never dated anyone seriously so I can’t promise I won’t mess up, but… I would really like to try. With you.”

“With me?” Yuuri asks, incredulous.

Victor nods, a small smile on his still rosy lips before he asks: “Would you like to go steady with me, Katsuki Yuuri?” He adds a wink at the end for good measure – as if Yuuri wasn’t completely ruined already by that point – and he holds Yuuri’s hands a little tighter as he waits for an answer.

“I- are you sure?” Yuuri asks, voice small, because there’s a big part of him that can’t believe that this is real, that Victor actually _wants_ him. 

“Yuuri,” Victor says, as he brings Yuuri’s hand up to his mouth, kissing each of his knuckles delicately, sending Yuuri’s heart into overdrive. “I have never been more sure. I’ve never felt this way with anybody else before, and I just want you to know that I’m yours. For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Yes,” Yuuri replies, because it’s the only thing he can manage to get out without starting to cry again. “Yes, of course I want to date you, I…”

His voice fails him, so he just buries his face in Victor’s chest trying to take deep breaths and letting Victor’s now familiar smell calm him – and what is he going to do now that they are _dating_? How can his poor heart survive something like this?

“I had never really kissed anyone before,” he confesses then, voice muffled by Victor’s shirt, without actually realizing what he’s saying until it’s too late.

He feels Victor smile against his temple. “You must be a natural, then.”

“Stop teasing me,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“I’m not teasing you, Солнышко. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

“Victor, you don’t have to –“

“It’s true,” Victor interrupts him firmly. “I never really cared this much before. I meant it when I said I’ve never felt like this with anyone. Lately I was… uh. I wasn’t really in a good place.” Yuuri can tell immediately from Victor’s tone that this is something he doesn’t talk about easily, that opening up like this isn’t easy for him, despite his extroverted exterior. He hugs him tighter as he listens. “I felt uninspired, and lonely and I was just _so sad._ Meeting you changed everything, Yuuri, I… I hope you know that.”

“I do now,” Yuuri whispers.

They stay like that, wrapped up in a hug, for a long time before Yuuri has to go back.

At the door, Victor gives him a goodnight kiss, their second one, a promise for more to come. Yuuri can’t wait for tomorrow.

\---

_00.17 [Yura]_

_if I made that amazing dinner_   
_and u didn’t tell him_   
_I’m gonna kill you, Vitya_   
_so? did you tell him???_

_00.34 [Victor]_

_Awww Yura! It’s so sweet that you care so much! ♥_   
_Your food was amazing!!_

_00.35 [Yura]_

_I HATE YOU_   
_STOP HARRASSING ME_

_00.37 [Yura]_

_SO DID U TELL HIM OR NOT_

_00.40 [Victor]_

_I did more than that_

_00.41 [Yura]_

_GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS_

_00.42 [Victor]_

_Calm down little Yura_   
_I just meant I asked him to date me_   
_And he said yes!!!_

_00.43 [Yura]_

_Thank God I couldn’t handle more of your stupid pining_

_00.43 [Victor]_

_…and then we kissed!_

_This user has blocked you from sending messages_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did this chapter justice! I had a hellish week with finals and studying, so it took me longer than usual, but I hope you will still like it :) 
> 
> If you did like this please make sure you leave a comment\kudos ♥ Thank you for reading and come say hi on tumblr at byebyeholocene :)
> 
> PS. I've recently posted a oneshot, it's a Robin Hood AU :) in case you guys would like to read it!


	7. tell me why we're talking when we dance so good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Victor does a lot of thinking and goes on a cliche date with Yuuri. Plus, Mama Nikiforov is back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I'm sorry this took so long, but exams were killing me and my ability to write in English instead of Italianenglish :D 
> 
> I hope this will be worth the wait ♥ thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, it means so much!

Victor knows he's a workaholic.

From what he can remember, he's always been like this - draining himself, pushing himself to the limit, to exhaustion. It's what he's always known, and even if his mother had always worried and told him he needed to slow down a bit - Yakov and Chris, as well - Victor has never wanted to. Has never felt the need to.

"I know you've always told me, but it never really hit me until now," he tells Chris. They're sitting at their usual place in their usual bar, because Chris had let Victor know (through Mila, of course) that if he bailed on their tradition now that he finally had something interesting to tell him he was going to spread a rumor around that Victor's famous platinum hair was, in fact, dyed. Victor hadn't been able to say no after that.

"Maybe it's because now you've got something you'd rather be doing," Chris tells him, before smirking and adding "... or someone," with a wink.

Victor laughs, but he can't help but wonder. Sometimes he feels like meeting Yuuri has been like finally seeing clearly after years of fog. He used to work so much, but none of it felt completely real, completely tangible. Days would slip away, running through his fingers like smoke, and nothing would ever feel permanent enough: not the joys, not the sorrows. He didn’t realize it then, when his friends and his family would beg him to slow down, didn’t realize that he was keeping himself busy to avoid his sadness, his loneliness, the hollow feeling he would feel when he laid in bed late at night, unable to sleep.

“I guess you’re right,” he tells Chris, and it comes out way more serious than he intended. “Me working so much… I did it because I wasn’t happy, and I was trying so hard not to feel it. I didn’t really feel much at all, for a while,” he confesses, to Chris as much as to himself.

Chris nods, silently, leaving Victor space to continue.

“I thought I just wasn’t able to stop because that’s who I was, you know?” he goes on. “Working myself to near exhaustion is all I ever knew, and you know how much I love my job. I thought falling asleep at my desk or working even when I was at home was normal, at least for me. But now… yesterday evening Yuuri and I walked Makkachin together in Central Park, and I always leave the office at a decent time when we do. I can’t _wait_ to leave my job now that I know Yuuri is waiting for me. And you know what’s the best part?”

“Tell me, _cher_ ,” Chris says, with a smile.

“Even though I can’t wait to get off from work so I can be with Yuuri, finding him has helped me find my inspiration, too,” Victor says, reverently, like he’s confessing his biggest secret.

Chris laughs then, but it’s a sound full of fondness. “Are you actually telling me you might be living a healthy, _balanced_ life?” he asks, grinning a little.

Victor finds himself mirroring him as he nods, and Chris turns serious for a moment. “I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am to hear that, Vic. Seeing you working so much and being so drained this last year wasn’t easy for any of us,” he says, and Victor feels a pang of guilt, finally recognizing the worry he must have caused his family and friends. He still can’t believe he never realized he was getting this bad.

“Well, uh… thanks,” he manages, even though he’s pretty terrible at having heart-to-heart conversations. “For everything, Chris,” he adds, sincerely.

 Chris winks at him, and then the atmosphere shifts again into friendly banter, with Chris proclaiming that “now I really, _really_ have to meet this guy, Victor. I’m expecting him to have magical abs or the best ass in the universe to justify how much of a goner you are for him.”

“He’s so beautiful, Chris, but… there’s so much more than that to him, he – “

“I know, I know. I’ve heard this way to many times to believe you’re only attracted to him. I mean it, Victor, I can’t wait to meet him – although I guess your mom will want priority?”

Victor almost has a heart attack.

Oh, no. His mother will _definitely_ want to meet Yuuri.

***

“I want to meet Yuuri,” is the greeting he gets when he visits her the next evening.

“Hi to you too, mama,” he says, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek as Makkachin darts inside the house, tail waggling.

“Hi Vitenka,” she tells him then, smile big as she hugs him and starts dragging him inside, away from the freezing cold weather of the beginnings of December. She’s as beautiful and as elegant as ever, her distinctive powdery, aromatic perfume making Victor feel immediately at home. “Now, tell me,” she says, taking his coat and hanging it before leading him to the kitchen where she’s making _borsht_ , “when do I get to meet the boy who’s making my son look so happy? You look radiant, моё золото.”

Victor feels himself smile, and it’s so spontaneous, so far away from the forced, tired ones he had been giving everyone lately – Mila told him so, too, the other day, that since Yuuri’s been around Victor just seems younger and happier. He guesses it’s true, and if his friends and colleagues have noticed, then it’s only fair that his mother would too. Victor knows she had been worried about him, about their difficult times during his childhood having broken something in him irreparably – he realizes now, maybe he had been too.

“Vitya? Are you listening to me?”

“Da, mama, sorry. I hope you’ll meet him soon, but you have to promise not to scare him, okay?”

His mother, as dramatic as him, gives him a insulted expression, one hand on her heart and the other stirring the pot casually.

“Vitya! I would _never_! But does this mean you two are official now? Are you boyfriends?” she asks him, excitedly.

“Well, I asked him to go steady and he said yes, so…”

His mom squeals, loudly enough that Yuri walks in to see what’s going on, holding an angry-looking cat in his arms.

“We have to invite him over for dinner!”

“Who, Katsudon?” Yuri says, gruffly.

“ _Katsudon_?” Victor asks him, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Who’s Katsudon?” his mother adds, confused.

“Katsudon’s a Japanese dish, mama, it’s Yuuri’s favorite food, and – wait,” he turns towards Yuri. “How did _you_ know that?”

Yuri crosses his arms, scowling. “He told me, okay? On Monday, when you finished your meeting late and he came up to the offices. Mila was busy so she told me to talk to him, or whatever.” Victor doesn’t try to hide his smile, because Yuri is trying really hard to sound like talking to Yuuri was a burden to him, when it’s apparent it was quite the contrary.  
When Yuri notices his grin – and his mother’s, too – his frown gets deeper and his ears red. “I don’t care about any of this! But I’m making _piroshky_ when he’s coming for dinner, I don’t trust any of you to make them like my grandpa,” he barks, storming out with his cat mewling, clearly alarmed.

“I think Yura is happy for you,” Victor’s mother tells him when they finally manage to stop laughing.

“Yeah,” Victor agrees. “And Yuuri won him over in record time. That’s obvious, though: I don’t think anyone can meet Yuuri and not immediately like him.”

His mother’s smile at this gets even brighter. “Then bring him here,” she tells him. “I want to be charmed by this Yuuri, too.”

“I will, I will. We only been together for about a week, so we’re still adjusting a little, but I promise you I will invite him here really soon, okay? I want you to meet him, mama. And I want him to meet you,” he says, affectionately.

“I can’t wait, Vitenka. We should invite Yakov as well!”

“Mama! I literally _just_ told you I don’t want Yuuri to get scared away and you want to introduce him to _Yakov_? Now I’m _never_ taking him here,” Victor declares, dramatically.

Of course, he’s only joking. He can’t wait to show Yuuri off to his family, Yakov included. There are so many things he can’t wait to do with Yuuri, and knowing that he actually gets the chance to is exhilarating. They have all the time in the world.

***

_07.54 [Victor]_

_Good morning, Yuuri ♥_

_08.02 [Yuuri]_

_Good morning :)_

_08.04 [Victor]_

_Did you sleep well?_  
_I wanted to ask you if you’re free on Saturday afternoon?_  
_We could go ice-skating in Rockefeller Center and then go out for dinner_

_08.05 [Yuuri]_

_I’m teaching Yuuko and Takeshi how to waltz, but I think I’ll be done around 5_  
_Is that ok?_  
_I would love to go ice-skating together :)_

_08.07 [Victor]_

_It’s a date!_  
_I’ll come pick you up at the studio_  
_I have to go, meeting in a minute_  
_I’ll text you later – have a lovely morning, Yuuri!_  
_PS. I miss you already ♥_

_08.10 [Yuuri]_

_Thanks, you too :)_

_08.35 [Yuuri]_

_Hey, I_  
_….I miss you too, by the way_  
_♥_

_\---_

Victor has wanted to see the place where Yuuri spends most of his time for a while now, and even though he had pictured it to be completely different, the reality of it is so much more fitting to Yuuri than anything born out of his imagination.

Minako Okukawa’s dance studio is on the seventh floor of a bohemian looking building. There are two big dance rooms, the walls made entirely of glass.  
When Victor enters, his eyes immediately go to the only occupied room, where Yuuko and Takeshi are trying to dance a waltz: Yuuko is really quite graceful, but Takeshi keeps stepping on her toes. Yuuri – and Victor’s heart stops for a second, because he hasn’t seen Yuuri since Monday and he’s so soft and _beautiful_ – Yuuri is patiently showing them what they have to do. He looks comfortable and amused, and Victor remembers that these are his oldest friends, the people who know him best in the world. Suddenly, he worries about making a good impression even if he has met the couple at least twice before.

“Victor Nikiforov,” someone says, startling him. An elegant woman with an incredibly regal posture is suddenly standing next to him, a small smile on her face.

“Minako Okukawa?” he guesses after he catches his breath.

She smiles at him, exuding an authoritative kind of confidence as she extends her hand for him to shake.

“You have a really nice studio,” he tells her, as she lets go of his hand.

“Please,” she huffs a laugh. “It’s definitely _not_ the studio that you were admiring just now.”

Victor laughs, because it’s true and because he has always been comfortable with direct, outspoken people like Minako – it’s the reason why Chris is his best friend. “Well, I was admiring the studio _as well,_ ” he replies, an easy smile.

Minako’s face twists like she wants to smile too, but she stops just short of it.

“Yuuri seems very happy,” she tells him, and Victor wonders if he is about to get a shovel talk from her – not that he would mind, to be completely honest. He knows Yuuri is surrounded by people who love him and want to protect him, and he will gladly be shovel-talked by every single one of them if they’re doing it because they love Yuuri. His eyes never leave Yuuri, who is now waltzing with Takeshi behind the glass, probably in a desperate attempt at leading him through his steps – Victor can’t help the small snort he makes at the frankly hilarious sight.

Minako is still looking at him though, and yes, a shovel talk is definitely about to happen.

“When I first met Yuuri he was five years old, and even then I’d never seen anyone so incredibly stubborn and so incredibly shy at the same time,” she begins, her voice calm as her eyes trail back to Yuuri n the ballet room. “People will tell you he’s fragile, that he needs to be protected because of his anxiety and because of how shy and quiet he is.”

“Is that what you’re telling me, too?” Victor asks her when she doesn’t continue.

“No,” is Minako’s firm reply. “Yuuri is a special creature, fragile and yet strong and unmovable at the same time. He has chosen you to open himself up to, to let himself fall, and that is a powerful, beautiful, _terrifying_ thing, for both of you.  I won’t ask you not to break his heart, Victor, but I will tell you this: don’t let him break yours.”

Victor opens his mouth, confused, but Minako raises a hand to shut him up.

“Yuuri really cares about you, and I care about Yuuri. So from today onwards, feel free to come here whenever you like, whether it is to visit Yuuri or if you ever need someone to talk to. They tell me I’m a good listener, and I do keep a bottle of sake here for emergencies,” she winks at him then, a genuine smile on her lips that makes her look younger. “I’m leaving now. It’s the weekend and God knows I need some rest.”

Victor just manages to stammer out a ‘thank you’ at her before she leaves. When he turns around, still a little perplexed, he sees Takeshi step on Yuuri’s foot and, worried about his boyfriend’s physical safety, he decides to make his presence known and enters the dance room.

“Careful, I need my boyfriend all in one piece for our date,” he says as a greeting. Yuuri’s head whips around and he goes beet red, while Yuuko laughs and Takeshi apologizes, looking a little embarrassed. Yuuri’s bright smile when he gets closer makes Victor’s heart skip a beat while his stomach does flip-flops, and wow, he’s falling more and more in love with Yuuri by the second.

“Victor!” Yuuko exclaims, waking him up from his daze. “I’m so happy about you and Yuuri!”

“Thank you, Yuuko,” Victor replies with a big smile. “And thank you for introducing us in the first place,” he adds with a wink. “How’s the dancing going?”

Takeshi replies with a groan, arms crossed over his chest and a grumpy expression on his face. “I don’t understand why we have to waltz,” he says. “Why can’t we just slowdance? I know how to slowdance.”

“Everybody knows how to slowdance,” Yuuko tells him, rolling her eyes. “Victor, you tell him. Tell him how much better it will be if we can actually _waltz_.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with her,” Victor says, and Yuuri chuckles a little because Takeshi looks absolutely devastated that he will actually have to learn how to waltz now that Victor has said so. “Would it help if you guys got a demonstration?” he asks then, nonchalantly.

"I didn't know you could dance, Victor," says Yuuko, looking absolutely delighted as Takeshi glares at her, unimpressed by the whole situation.

Yuuri is staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks pink. "You know how to waltz?" he asks him, quietly, as if it's too good to be true.

Victor smiles, extending an arm towards him, an open invitation. "Why don't I show you?"

He knows he's being a little dramatic, but he's Victor Nikiforov, after all, and nothing gives him more joy than surprising people - especially Yuuri. Yuuko runs to the stereo system and starts the music again, and Yuuri accepts Victor's hand. They fall into a waltzing position easily, Victor taking lead, and after one, two, three seconds where Victor forgets to move because Yuuri fits so perfectly against him he could cry, they start dancing.

Victor knows he's good: he's done ballroom dancing for years, and he's got his mother's natural talent. Yuuri follows his lead gracefully, and they move together so naturally that it feels like they've been practicing for years.

Yuuri smiles wide when Victor twirls him around unexpectedly. "You're really good at this," he whispers, chocolate brown eyes shining and lashes looking impossibly long. There's a faint blush to his cheeks from the dancing, and he's so beautiful that Victor would stop and kiss him senseless right now if Yuuko and Takeshi weren't here as well.

"So are you," Victor tells him, before twirling him again and making him laugh. They stop when Takeshi coughs loudly, but Victor doesn't miss the way Yuuri's looking at him enraptured, face alight and eyes sparkling.

"I hope you know there's no way I can dance like that," Takeshi tells Yuuko, who's still clapping for them. She laughs, shaking her head, "I've got faith in you! Maybe not today though, I think we've done enough waltzing and these two deserve to go on their date."

Victor really does have a lot to thank Yuuko for.

They say goodbye to the Nishigoris, and Victor promises Yuuko to make some time to personally help her pick her dress from his Atelier, making her squeal in excitement as Takeshi gives him a thumbs up. And then, he and Yuuri are finally alone.

Victor turns towards him, but before he can do anything Yuuri’s arms are around his neck and Yuuri’s lips are smashing against his. Yuuri kisses him with intensity, lips open and inviting, and Victor feels himself go dizzy as he buries one hand in Yuuri’s hair and sneaks the other around Yuuri’s waist, bringing their bodies flush against each other.

It’s nothing like any of the other kisses they have shared in their short time as boyfriends, and when they finally have to come up for air, both breathless and flushed, Victor needs a few seconds to remember where he is before he can smirk at Yuuri, who’s still looking at him with dark, alluring eyes.

“I can’t believe you can dance like _that,_ ” Yuuri murmurs, a little breathless.

“ _Yuuri,”_ Victor laughs, gently pushing his boyfriend’s hair out of his face an planting a kiss on his nose. “If I had known you were going to react like that I would have asked you to dance ages ago!”

Yuuri buries his face in Victor’s chest, mumbling intelligible things and starting to look embarrassed now that his actions have caught up with him. Victor delicately lifts up Yuuri’s chin with his fingers to kiss him sweetly.

“I loved dancing with you,” he tells him, and Yuuri squeezes him a little tighter. “We should do it more often.” Yuuri is still blushing, but he nods eagerly. Victor smiles, before realizing what time it is. “We should get going, if we want to have time to skate before dinner.”

“I haven’t skated in so long,” Yuuri tells him as he puts a beige sweater on.

“Me neither. I never had time for anything but working before,” Victor confesses. Yuuri stops, coat on his arm and scarf half around his neck, looking at him curiously, so Victor tries to explain. “I’m a bit of a workaholic. Or I used to be, I’m not sure. But I – it feels different since I’ve met you. I want to have the time to enjoy things together.”

Victor waits for a response, or for more questions. Instead what he gets is a soft look and a nod, and just like that he knows Yuuri _understands_. It’s a humbling feeling.

“Me too,” Yuuri says, stepping towards him and grabbing his hand, and Victor feels himself melt at the gesture, at the closeness and familiarity of it.

“Well, we can catch each other when we fall then,” he suggests, with a wink.

They step out together, holding hands and enjoying the atmosphere of New York around Christmas time, fairy lights and decorations all around. Sometimes, Victor sneaks a glance at Yuuri, buried in his scarf and wearing a wool beanie that makes him look absolutely adorable. He can’t believe he’s on a date with his _boyfriend_  like a normal person, that he gets to be in love like this and finally enjoy the moment.

“Victor?” Yuuri asks at some point, when they’re close enough to Rockefeller Center that they can see the big, golden Christmas tree. “When did you learn to dance that well?”

Victor smiles, because Yuuri clearly still wasn’t over their waltz from earlier. “My mama used to do ballroom dancing,” he tells him. “She could have become a professional, but she got pregnant with me when she was nineteen and well, you can’t really train all those hours as a single mother.”

It’s the closest Victor has gotten to telling someone about his childhood, excluding Chris, and even with Chris it had taken a good year before Victor could open up about it.  He clears his voice.

“Anyways, I could never stand still as a child, so she asked a friend if I could join her dancing class. I loved it, and I did it until we moved to America, when I was sixteen.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Dancing? Sometimes, but to be honest I was never passionate about it the way I am about fashion and wedding planning.”

“And Russia?” Yuuri seems cautious in asking this, as if he can sense that it’s a sensitive topic for Victor. It is, but Victor wants to be honest with Yuuri, as honest as he can after a lifetime of guarding his real feelings.

“Russia is always going to be a part of me,” he starts, slowly, and Yuuri squeezes his hand to let him know he’s with him, that he’s listening, and Victor is overcome by affection. “I miss the flavors, the language, St. Petersburg. But I… I don’t have many fond memories of my time there.” He looks at Yuuri then, big eyes set on Victor, and he finds himself going soft despite the sadness that thinking about his childhood always makes him feel. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, right now,” he says, and he means it with all of his heart.

Yuuri gets up on his tiptoes and kisses his cheek.

They skate and fall like every other couple on a date, and when they finish they end up ditching their restaurant reservation and buying pretzels from a kiosk, eating them as they walk around, enjoying each other’s company. It’s the best Saturday of Victor’s life, and Yuuri accepting his mother’s invitation to go over for dinner sometimes next week, all pink cheeks and shining eyes, is the cherry on top of a perfect day

***

_[23.14] Victor_

_Hi Yakov!_  
_Are you free next Thursday? There’s someone I’d like you to meet_

_[07.21] Yakov_

_Vitya._  
_You never visit, you never call and then you text me in the middle of the night._  
_You’re the most selfish, inconsiderate person I’ve ever met._  
_I should never talk to you again, such an ungrateful brat you are._

_[07.35] Victor_

_Does this mean you’ll come?_

_[07.45] Yakov_

_Of course I’ll come, you idiot._  
_I want to meet this boy of yours, and he better be good enough for you, Vitya._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter of Victor exploring his feelings and him and Yuuri being adorable and fluffy! Let me know what you think in the comments or on tumblr @ byebyeholocene :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	8. more than you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri meets Victor's family and finds out what dating a public figure entails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so incredibly sorry for the long wait! I'm finally done with exams and I hope updates will come faster now. It was hard getting back into writing, but I hope you will love this new chapter all the same. 
> 
> WARNING: metions\aftermaths of a panic attack

Yuuri isn’t sure what he expected Ekaterina Sokolova to be like.

Maybe he had thought she was going to be a distinct, strict Russian lady, or a happy, round faced mom like his own. Ekaterina is neither of these things. When the door opens, Yuuri halfway hiding behind Victor despite his best efforts at keeping his anxiety at bay, he finds himself face to face with one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen.

It makes sense, Victor’s beauty and effortless grace have to come from somewhere, after all, and from what Yuuri can see he has definitely inherited them from his mom. Ekaterina is tall and lithe, with porcelain skin and long, silky white-blond hair braided to the side of her elegant, perfect face, a face so similar to Victor’s that looking at her is a little uncanny. She gives Yuuri an excited, heart-shaped smile – one that he has grown extremely fond of in the short time he has known Victor – making him smile in return.

“Yuuri!” she exclaims, throwing herself forward and hugging him tight, enveloping him in her flowery scent. “I’m so happy you’re here, I couldn’t wait to meet you,” she tells him, and it sounds so honest in her velvety voice, Russian accent much stronger than her son’s.

“T-thank you, ma’am,” Yuuri manages to say when she finally releases him.

“Call me Katya, please! Oh, and _youkoso_!”

Yuuri smiles wide at hearing the familiar term, Ekaterina’s enthusiasm making the wrong pronunciation all the more endearing.

“Mama, don’t embarrass him, _da_?” Victor tells her, but his tone is affectionate and he’s smiling too as he leans down to kiss her on both cheeks. Yuuri instantly realizes that Victor cares very much about his mother – his blue eyes rest on her with a singular, protective fondness he hasn’t seen in them before.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri assures her. “Thank you for inviting me, I’m really happy to meet you too.”

It wins him not one, but two, simultaneous heart-shaped smiles – they’re almost too adorable to handle at once. They walk inside, Makkachin in tow and Victor’s hand squeezing Yuuri’s tight, and Ekaterina leads them to the dining room, where a grumpy-as-ever Yuri is setting the table. When he notices them, his eyes fly straight to Yuuri.

“I made katsudon piroshky, and you better fucking like them,” he declares, as a greeting.

“YURA! I will not tolerate such language under my roof! Please behave like the gentleman I know you are deep down,” Ekaterina reprimands him before excusing herself to the kitchen to check on the food, Yuri muttering something under his breath.

“You know, Солнышко, as soon as he heard you would be coming for dinner, Yura told us he was going to make his famous piroshky especially for you,” Victor tells him, making Yuuri’s heart skip a beat at the term of endearment, which happened every single time he used it – Yuuri just can’t help it.

“Shut up! I just didn’t want _you_ to poison him, since you’re pretty much useless at everything,” Yuri snaps, blushing up to the tips of his ears.

Before Victor can answer with something equally immature, Yuuri smiles at the teenager. “Thank you, Yuri! And you remembered about katsudon, too, that’s really nice of you”.

“Whatever,” Yuri replies, darting out of the room faster than lightning.

Victor can’t hold back his amused laugh. “Oh my God, Yuuri, I think he has a crush on you,” he says, eyes sparkling with mirth.

Yuuri buries his face in his hands, embarrassed, and when he finally takes them off and opens his eyes, the most intimidating man he’s ever seen is staring right at him from the doorway.

 “So it’s you,” the man says, and it sounds like he’s yelling – is that his regular voice? Is he mad at Yuuri?

“Yakov!” Victor exclaims, sounding exasperated. “Could you _please_ not terrify my boyfriend before you have even introduced yourself?”

So, this is Yakov. Yuuri should have guessed, because he definitely fits the description Victor had given him (“Looks mad all the time, half-bald and with an angry face”). He isn’t too sure about the role Yakov had in Victor’s life – Victor hadn’t told him much, just that Yakov was like family to him.   
Yuuri has noticed Victor seemed to struggle whenever he has to talk about his past - about Russia, about his first years in America - his eyes grow cold, his voice alien and distant. Yuuri doesn’t push, doesn’t mind being patient, doesn’t mind waiting for Victor to be comfortable enough with him to open up more about it, no matter how long it will take. It makes his heart ache, though, knowing that Victor doesn’t seem to have had the childhood he deserved.

Yakov strides towards Yuuri, step heavy, shaking his hand firmly and staring at him with the obvious intent of scrutinizing him.

 “Yakov Feltsman,” he says finally, letting go of Yuuri’s hand but not dropping his gaze yet.

“Katsuki Yuuri,” Yuuri manages to reply, hoping not to sound as terrified as he is right now.

“And what do you do, Katsuki Yuuri?” Yakov asks him, and yes, he’s definitely being tested right now. Yuuri tries not to show how nervous he is – what if Yakov, Victor’s only father figure and mentor, doesn’t like him? What if he thinks Yuuri is not enough for Victor? Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised, after all: Victor is extraordinary, and he’s just… himself.

“I dance,” he blurts out, before rushing to correct himself. “I mean I teach ballet and dance, to kids, mostly. I… I used to dance, but now not anymore.”

“Vitya didn’t mention you being a ballet teacher,” Yakov says, and he seems oddly… impressed?

“Yakov was married to a prima ballerina,” Victor says then, stepping closer and settling at Yuuri’s side. His hand settles on the small of Yuuri’s back, a soothing and reassuring gesture that makes him melt a little. “Yuuri was a phenomenal dancer, Yakov,” he adds then, and Yuuri can’t help but snort a little laugh at that.

“You haven’t even seen me dance!”

“What do you mean, cолнышко, we have waltzed together!” Victor says, dramatically.

“I don’t think that’s enough for you to say ‘phenomenal’,” Yuuri tells him, smiling openly. Victor opens his mouth, clearly about to make a scene, but Ekaterina emerges from the kitchen, announcing that dinner is ready and stopping their conversation. Yuuri sits next to Victor, in front of Yuri and Ekaterina. Yakov and a tall, distinct middle aged man who introduces himself as Andrey Plisetski take the heads of the table.

Ekaterina explains all the dishes to Yuuri, and he smile when he notices how she spends more time praising Yuri’s _piroshky_ and telling them how much of a good cook the teenager, now blushing grumpily, is.

“And to think that Vitya once managed to make a pie explode in the microwave,” she tells him, grinning.

“Mama!”

“And then one day, he calls me and tells me he needs some of my recipes. I knew right away you must be really special, Yuuri.”

“Mama, пожалуйста,” Victor says, shaking his head with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, shush, Vitya. I’ve been waiting for so long for this moment, and you’re going to let me enjoy it!” Ekaterina says, an Yuuri can’t help but smile at that because it’s the exact same thing his mother had told him after he had shyly confessed to her that Victor was now his boyfriend.

“It’s not like he actually made any of it,” Yuri growls then. “He was going to kill him with the food, I had to save his ass as usual.”

They all laugh at that, and Yuuri finds himself completely at ease during dinner, telling Yakov and Ekaterina about his ballet career and his teaching, and answering Andrey’s questions about his parents’ shop and about Japan. Always, throughout the evening, Victor’s touch is present and reassuring, and Victor makes sure to intervene and divert the conversation whenever he feels Yuuri getting nervous, telling stories about the Leroy wedding or something funny that happened at the Atelier. Yuuri falls a little more in love with him.

When dinner is over, Yuuri offers to help washing the dishes. It’s second nature for him, and he’s happy when Ekaterina accepts his offer with a smile, ignoring Victor’s protests and leaving him to speak with Yakov.

Yuuri stands next to Ekaterina in front of the sink, starting to wash the dishes with comfortable, practiced movements.

“The dinner was amazing,” he tells her, and he means it. Nothing will ever be as good as him mother’s cooking, but Ekaterina was a great cook herself.

“Thank you, Yuuri. It was my pleasure making it for you, and it’s the least I could do to thank you for making my Vitya so happy,” she replies, voice airy and soft.

 Yuuri feels himself blush, and it takes him a few seconds to be able to reply.

“He makes me really happy, too,” he says, barely above a whisper, and Ekaterina smiles brightly at him.

“You know,” she says, after a while. “I worry so much about my Vitya. I know he’s strong, and smart, and brave. But I feared that…” her hands tremble a little, gripping the sponge tighter. “I wasn’t able to give him the childhood he deserved. I was scared that he would never let himself be vulnerable in front of someone, and then he met you. And tonight…” she trails off, hurrying to wipe a tear from her cheek. Yuuri stares at her, not knowing what to do or what to say, sad that Victor and his mother had such a difficult past behind them. “I’m being silly,” she tells him with a small laugh.

“No,” Yuuri shakes his head firmly, putting down the plate he was holding and turning towards her. She’s beautiful, but there’s a heartbreaking fragility about her.

“Tonight was the happiest I’ve seen Vitya in a very, very long time. I hope you understand how thankful I am to you for being the one to make him smile like that. I’ve been praying and praying for him to find you.”

Yuuri feels his eyes heavy with tears then, touched and overwhelmed and speechless. He wants to hug Ekaterina, but he doesn’t know how to ask. When he tries,  it comes out different than he expected.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

As soon as the words are out he wants to run away screaming, but before he can do that - or anything similarly embarrassing – Ekaterina dries her hands off and offers one to him with a small, trembling smile.

They end up Viennese Waltzing around the kitchen, smiling and laughing together. Ekaterina is an exquisite partner, moving with grace and fluid steps and letting Yuuri lead her without question.

“I hadn’t danced a waltz in so long, I was scared I wouldn’t remember how,” she confesses, eyes alight as Yuuri twirls her around.

They stop, eventually, when they notice Victor staring at them from the kitchen door. His expression is one that Yuuri hasn’t seen before, blue eyes shining and mouth slightly open, and he has a feeling that Victor might be trying not to cry.

It’s way past ten when they finally leave, Yuuri promising to be back soon when Ekaterina hugs him warmly and tightly. Yuri gives him an extra bag of _piroshky_ under Andrey’s proud gaze _,_ and Yakov shakes his hand again with a nod of his head that Yuuri decides to take as his stamp of approval.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Victor’s lips are on Yuuri’s, and Yuuri lets himself be kissed stupid by his boyfriend.

“You were amazing tonight,” Victor beams at him, giving him one more kiss and making him blush.

“I really like your family, Victor.”

“And they really like you. I’ve never seen Yakov take to someone so quickly – he gave _me_ the shovel talk! Can you believe that? It’s so unfair!”

Yuuri laughs, letting Victor open the passenger door for him. This time, Victor tries not to drive too recklessly. It’s not too long after he stops in front of Yuuri’s building. Ever the gentleman, Victor walks him to the front door.

“Victor, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Your family - they call you ‘Vitya’, right? How come?”

Victor takes both of Yuuri’s hands in his and interlaces their fingers with a smile. “It’s a Russian thing. Every name has many diminutives, depending on how close you are with the person you’re addressing. For example, I usually call Yuri ‘Yura’. My mom sometimes calls me Vitenka, too, and that’s even more affectionate.”

Yuuri feels himself blush as he gathers his courage to ask what he wants to ask, taking a deep breath.

“Yuuri?” Victor’s thumb caresses the back of his hand. “What is it, cолнышко?”

“I – I was wondering if… if it would be okay if maybe I called you that, too? Vitya, I mean,” he stammers out, not daring to look at Victor. “It’s okay if you don’t want to! Really! I just thought – “

Victor places a long, cold finger on Yuuri’s lips. When Yuuri finally looks up at his unfairly beautiful boyfriend, Victor is smiling brightly at him. “I would love it if you called me Vitya, cолнышко,” Victor tells him, before removing his finger and planting a sweet, lingering kiss on Yuuri’s mouth.

“O-okay,” Yuuri whispers, breathlessly, making Victor smile fondly.

“See you on Sunday?”

“Yeah, Sunday.”

“Goodnight, Yuuri.”

“Goodnight, Vitya.”

***

_[23.01] Yuuri_

_So Victor is sort-of-kind-of related to Lilia Baranovskaya_

_[23.07] Minako-sensei_

_MARRY THAT BOY._  
  


***

The whole apartment is dark when Phichit finds him, and the worst part of his panic attack is over. He’s still shivering, curled on himself on the couch and bundled up in a warm blanket.

“Yuuri, I’m back! Are you home, my child? Why is it so dar – oh, Yuuri.”

Phichit is next to him in a second, asking him permission before hugging him and comforting him through the waves of his anxiety.

“It’s okay, Yuuri, you will be okay. I’m right here. Do you want me to call someone? Your mom, or Mari? Maybe Victor?”

Yuuri shakes his head vehemently at the mention of his boyfriend’s name. He has told Victor that he suffers from anxiety, and his boyfriend has been nothing but supportive and extremely sweet about it. However, Yuuri is pretty sure that Victor doesn’t really understand the extent of his attacks, and that he would run away screaming if he did – or, even worse, think he’s weak and an embarrassment. Which is sort of what caused the attack in the first place and he _really_ should stop _thinking._

Phichit makes him hot tea and strokes his hair until Yuuri calms down and his breathing isn’t as frantic and desperate anymore.

“Are you feeling better?” Phichit asks him, quietly, making sure Yuuri is completely covered by the blanket and that he’s stopped shivering.

Yuuri nods, still feeling shaken and exhausted. “Thank you for helping me,” he says, quickly drying a solitary tear as it rolls down his cheek.

Phichit shakes his head and squeezes his hand. “Don’t mention it. You can call me anytime you need me, okay? I want you too.”

They are quiet for a bit, Yuuri drinking his tea slowly and starting to feel more like himself.

“Yuuri, did… did something happen? With Victor, maybe?” Phichit asks, cautiously. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath.

“I was teaching ballet this evening to the level 6 class, the one Minami is in,” he starts, slowly.

“Minami as in your number one fan who wants to marry you and also be like you?”

“He showed me an article on his phone,” Yuuri murmurs, throat tightening. “A – a _gossip_ article about Victor on one of those awful tabloid websites. There was a picture of us, of Victor and me ice skating a-and one of us holding hands and _kissing_ ,” he chokes out, feeling tears welling up in his eyes again. He rubs them behind his glasses before continuing. “They were speculating on who I might be, saying maybe I was a – a foreign model, or… or something similar, and I – “

His voice breaks, and Phichit strokes his hand gently, waiting patiently for him to finish.

“What happens when they find out?” Yuuri whispers, voice trembling and watery.

“Find out what?”

“That I’m just _me_. That I’m nothing but a failed dancer w-who teaches kids and has anxiety.”

“Oh, Yuuri.” Phichit hugs him tightly, and Yuuri lets go and starts crying again into his best friend’s shoulder, Phichit stroking his back softly. “Yuuri, you are an amazing, talented person, and Victor knows that. Victor _loves_ you, and everyone who has eyes can see that. He wants _you_ , Katsuki Yuuri, not some foreign model. He introduced you to his whole family yesterday!”

“B-but what if… what are people going to _think_ when they find out he’s dating m-me?”

“What they think doesn’t matter,” Phichit says firmly, leaning back to look Yuuri in the eyes. “None of them knows you, Yuuri, but I do, and Victor, and Yuuko and Takeshi, and we _love_ you. Everyone who knows you loves you and knows how special you are, and I hope that one day soon you will start believing it too.”

Yuuri wipes his face with the sleeve of his sweater, trying to get his racing heart and mind to calm down. Phichit’s words and company have helped immensely, and so has crying it all out, but he still feels a seed of fear growing inside of him, a little voice that says that maybe if Victor will read whatever they will write about him, he will finally open his eyes and leave him.

Yuuri would not blame him, he would understand – how can he expect someone like Victor to be held back by someone like himself? – but his love for Victor grows stronger and stronger with every day they spend together, and he’s terrified of how much it will hurt when Victor decides to walk away, of how much _he_ will hurt.

He loves Victor _so much._

And that’s why he can’t hold him back.

That’s why, when Victor says goodbye, Yuuri will let him go.

His phone vibrates on the nightstand, lighting up the dark room. Yuuri grabs it blindly, swiping right to read the message he just got.

_[22.17] Vitya_   
_(Image)_   
_Makka misses you_   
_We both do_   
_Sleep well, my little sun, I’ll call you tomorrow morning_

Oh, Victor. Always so sweet and attentive, so incredibly caring when it comes to him. Yuuri knows instinctively that Victor would never hurt him, that he’d rather hurt himself than Yuuri.

That’s why, when the time comes, Yuuri will have to be the one to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Yuuri. You dumb, beautiful child. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter - I'm really sorry for the angsty bit, but I promise this story will have a happy ending and there's still lots of fluff to come. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or a kudo! And come say hi on tumblr at byebyeholocene :)


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